Book 16

So they fought about the well-benched ship;and Patroclus stood beside Achilles, shepherd of the host,shedding hot tears like a dark-watered springthat down a sheer cliff pours its murky water.Seeing him, swift-footed shining Achilles pitied him,and speaking winged words he addressed him:Why do you weep, Patroclus, like a little girlwho runs beside her mother and begs to be taken up,clutching at her robe, and holds her back as she hurries,and tearfully looks at her until she is lifted?Like her, Patroclus, you let fall the soft tear.Is it some news you would tell the Myrmidons, or me myself,or have you alone heard some message out of Phthia?They say Menoetius, son of Actor, still lives,and Peleus, son of Aeacus, lives among the Myrmidons;for both of these dead we should grieve exceedingly.Or do you lament the Argives, how they are destroyedby the hollow ships, because of their own transgression?Speak out, do not hide it in your mind, so that we both may know.Then with a heavy groan you answered, Patroclus, rider of horses:O Achilles, son of Peleus, mightiest far of the Achaeans,be not angry; such grief has laid hold on the Achaeans.For all of them, as many as were formerly the best,lie in the ships, struck with weapons or wounded.Struck is the son of Tydeus, strong Diomedes,and wounded is Odysseus famed for the spear, and Agamemnon,and struck is Eurypylus too, in the thigh with an arrow.These the healers rich in many herbs tend all about,healing their wounds; but you, Achilles, are unyielding.May that anger which you keep, never take hold of me,you of dread valour; what good will another born later have of you,if you do not ward off shameful ruin from the Argives?Pitiless one, no horseman Peleus was your father,nor was Thetis your mother; the grey sea bore youand the steep rocks, since your mind is unyielding.But if in your heart you shrink from some oracle,and your honoured mother has revealed something to you from Zeus,then send me at least forth quickly, and give me the rest of the host,the Myrmidons, if perhaps I may become some light to the Danaans.And give me your armour to put upon my shoulders,that in it, thinking me to be you, the Trojans may hold back from war,and the warlike sons of the Achaeans may take breath,worn as they are; and there is little breathing-space in war.Easily we, unwearied, might thrust back the wearied men with a shouttoward the city, away from the ships and the huts.So he spoke beseeching him, great fool; for truly he was aboutto beg for his own evil death and doom.And greatly troubled, swift-footed Achilles answered him:Alas, heaven-born Patroclus, what a thing you have said.I take no heed of any oracle that I know,nor has my honoured mother told me anything from Zeus;but this dread grief comes upon my heart and spirit,when a man wishes to rob one who is his equaland to take back his prize, because he surpasses him in power.A dread grief is this to me, since I suffered pains in my spirit.The girl whom the sons of the Achaeans chose out as my prize,and I won with my spear, after I sacked a well-walled city,her lord Agamemnon took back out of my hands,the son of Atreus, as if I were some dishonoured wanderer.But let these things be as things past; there was no wayto be ceaselessly angry in my heart; yet I saidthat I would not cease from my wrath beforethe battle-cry and the war came to my own ships.But do you put on my glorious armour on your shoulders,and lead the war-loving Myrmidons into battle,if indeed a dark cloud of the Trojans has encompassedthe ships mightily, and they are pressed against the sea's edge,the Argives holding still only a small portion of ground,and the whole city of Troy has come on in confidence;for they do not see the front of my helmetgleaming near; soon would they fill the trenches with corpses as they fled,if lord Agamemnon were kindly-minded to me;but now they fight about the host.For in the hands of Diomedes, son of Tydeus,the spear no longer rages to ward off ruin from the Danaans,nor have I yet heard the voice of the son of Atreus shoutingout of his hateful head; but around man-slaying Hectoras he calls to the Trojans it breaks, and they with the war-cryhold the whole plain, victorious in battle over the Achaeans.But even so, Patroclus, warding ruin from the ships,fall upon them mightily, lest now they burn the ships with blazing fireand take away our dear homecoming.And obey, as I set the end of my word in your heart,so that you may win for me great honour and gloryfrom all the Danaans, and that they may give back the lovely girland add splendid gifts.When you have driven them from the ships, come back again; and if the loud-thundering husband of Heragrants you to win glory,do not desire to fight without meagainst the war-loving Trojans; you will make me less honoured.Nor, exulting in war and slaughter,as you slay the Trojans, lead on toward Ilion,lest one of the ever-living gods from Olympuscome down; far-shooting Apollo loves them greatly.But turn back again, once you have set light in the ships,and let them still struggle on the plain.For oh, father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo,may no Trojan then escape death, as many as there are,nor any Argive, but may we two escape destruction,so that we alone may loose the sacred veils of Troy.So they spoke such words to one another,and Ajax no longer stood his ground; for he was overpowered by missiles;the mind of Zeus subdued him, and the noble Trojansstriking him; and the shining helmet about his templesrang terribly as it was struck, and ever it was batteredon the well-made cheek-pieces; and his left shoulder grew weary,always holding steady the flashing shield; and they could notshake him about, though they pressed on with missiles.Ever he was gripped by painful panting, and sweatpoured in streams from all his limbs, nor anywhere could hetake breath; evil was fastened on evil everywhere.Tell me now, Muses who hold Olympian dwellings,how first fire fell upon the ships of the Achaeans.Hector, standing near, struck the ashen spear of Ajaxwith his great sword, behind at the spear's shaft,and sheared it clean through; and Ajax, son of Telamon,held in his hand the maimed spear all useless, and far from himthe bronze point rang as it fell to the ground.And Ajax knew in his blameless heart, and shudderedat the works of the gods, that Zeus high-thunderingwas wholly cutting away the plans of battle, and willed victory for the Trojans;and he gave ground from the missiles. And they threw tireless fireon the swift ship; and at once unquenchable flame poured over it.So fire wrapped the stern; but Achillessmote his thighs and spoke to Patroclus:Rouse yourself, heaven-born Patroclus, master of horsemen;I see already by the ships the roar of hostile fire;lest they take the ships, and there be no more escape,put on your armour quickly, and I will gather the host.So he spoke, and Patroclus armed himself in shining bronze.First he set the greaves about his shins,fair ones, fitted with silver ankle-straps;and secondly he put the corselet about his chest,dappled and starry, of the swift-footed son of Aeacus.About his shoulders he slung the sword, silver-studded,of bronze, and after that the shield, great and sturdy;and on his mighty head he set the well-wrought helmet,horse-haired; and terribly the crest nodded from above.He took two valiant spears, which fitted his hands.But the spear of blameless Aeacus' son he did not take alone,heavy, great, sturdy; no other of the Achaeans couldbrandish it, but Achilles alone knew how to wield it,the Pelian ash, which Cheiron gave to his dear fatherfrom the summit of Pelion, to be slaughter for heroes.And he ordered Automedon to yoke the horses quickly,whom after Achilles, breaker of men, he honoured most,and who was most faithful to wait for his call in battle.And Automedon led the swift horses under the yoke,Xanthus and Balius, who flew with the breezes,whom Harpy Podarge bore to the West Wind,grazing in the meadow beside the stream of Ocean.And in the trace-harness he put blameless Pedasus,which Achilles once had brought, having sacked the city of Eetion,who, though mortal, followed the immortal horses.And Achilles went through the Myrmidons and armed themall along the huts with their armour; and they, like wolvesthat eat raw flesh, in whose hearts is unspeakable courage,who, having slain a great horned stag in the mountains,devour it; and all their cheeks are red with blood;and they go in packs to a dark-watered springto lap the black water with their slender tongues,belching up from the edge the slaughter of blood; and the spiritin their breasts is fearless, and their belly is stuffed full;such were the leaders and lords of the Myrmidonsabout the good squire of the swift-footed son of Aeacusrushing; and among them stood warlike Achilles,urging on the horses and the shield-bearing men.Fifty were the swift ships, in which Achilles,dear to Zeus, led the way to Troy; and in eachthere were fifty men, his comrades at the benches;and he made five leaders, whom he trustedto command; and he himself ruled, greatly prevailing.Of the first company Menesthius, gleaming in corselet, was leader,son of the river Spercheius, Zeus-fed,whom the daughter of Peleus, fair Polydora, boreto tireless Spercheius, a mortal woman bedded with a god;but in name to Borus, son of Perieres,who openly married her, giving countless bride-gifts.Of the second warlike Eudorus was leader,a maiden's son, whom fair Polymele bore in the dance,daughter of Phylas; her the strong slayer of Argusloved, when he saw her with his eyes among the singing maidensin the dance of Artemis of the golden distaff, loud with song.And at once going up into the upper room he lay with her in secret,kindly Hermes, and gave her a splendid son,Eudorus, swift of foot and a fighter.But when Eileithyia, the goddess of birth-pangs,brought him out to the light and he saw the rays of the sun,her the strong might of Echecles, son of Actor, ledto his home, when he had given countless bride-gifts;and the old man Phylas brought him up well and cherished him,loving him fondly as if he were his own son.Of the third warlike Peisander was leader,son of Maemalus, who stood out among all the Myrmidonsat fighting with the spear, next after the comrade of Peleus' son.Of the fourth the old horseman Phoenix was leader,and of the fifth blameless Alcimedon, son of Laerces.But when Achilles had set them all with their leaders,well ordered, he laid a strong command upon them:Myrmidons, let none of you forget the threatswhich by the swift ships you threatened against the Trojansthrough all my wrath, and each of you blamed me, saying:Hard-hearted son of Peleus, your mother nursed you on gall,pitiless one, who keep your unwilling comrades by the ships;let us go home again with our sea-crossing ships,since such evil anger has fallen upon your heart.These things you kept saying as you gathered; and now the great deedof war has appeared, which before now you longed for.Let each man then with a valiant heart fight against the Trojans.So speaking he roused the might and spirit of each man.And more firmly the ranks were joined, when they heard their king.As when a man fits a wall with close-set stonesof a high house, avoiding the violence of the winds,so were the helmets fitted, and the bossed shields.Shield pressed against shield, helmet on helmet, man on man;and the horse-haired helmets touched with their shining bossesas they nodded, so closely were they set against one another.And before them all two men armed themselves,Patroclus and Automedon, having one spirit,to fight in front of the Myrmidons. But Achilleswent to his hut, and opened the lid of the chest,the fair one, cunningly made, which Thetis of the silver feetput on the ship for him to carry, well filled with tunicsand wind-proof cloaks and shaggy blankets.And there a cup was laid up for him, and no otherof men ever drank the gleaming wine from it,nor did he pour libations to any god, except to father Zeus.This then he took from the chest and cleansed with sulphurfirst, then washed it in the fair streams of water,and washed his own hands, and drew off the gleaming wine.Then he prayed, standing in the middle of the courtyard, and poured the winelooking up to heaven; and Zeus who delights in thunder did not fail to mark him:Zeus, lord, Dodonaean, Pelasgian, dwelling far away,ruling over wintry Dodona, and around about dwell the Selloi,your interpreters, unwashed of foot, sleeping on the ground;you did once hear my word when I prayed,you honoured me, and greatly crushed the host of the Achaeans;and even now fulfil this desire for me:I myself indeed will remain in the gathering of the ships,but I send my comrade amid the many Myrmidonsto fight; send glory with him, far-seeing Zeus,and strengthen the heart in his breast, so that Hector toomay know whether my squire knows how to fighteven alone, or whether then his hands are irresistiblein their fury, when I go into the turmoil of Ares.But when he has driven battle and the war-cry from the ships,may he come back unharmed to the swift ships,with all his armour and his close-fighting comrades.So he spoke in prayer, and Zeus the counsellor heard him.And the father granted him one thing, but denied the other:he granted him to thrust back war and battle from the ships,but he denied him to come back safe out of the battle.So when he had poured libation and prayed to father Zeus,he went back into his hut, and set the cup in the chest,and stood forth before the hut, and still in his heart he wishedto see the dread conflict of Trojans and Achaeans.And they with great-hearted Patroclus, armed,marched, until they sprang in high pride upon the Trojans.And at once, like wasps, they poured out,wasps of the roadside, which boys are wont to anger,always teasing them as they keep their homes by the road,foolish boys; and they make a common evil for many.If some man, a passing traveller, going bydisturbs them without wishing, they, having a valiant heart,all fly forward and defend their brood.With such heart and spirit did the Myrmidons thenpour out from the ships; and an unquenchable shout arose.And Patroclus called to his comrades, crying aloud:Myrmidons, comrades of Achilles son of Peleus,be men, my friends, and remember your furious valour,so that we may honour the son of Peleus, who is far the bestof the Argives at the ships, and his close-fighting squires;and let the son of Atreus, wide-ruling Agamemnon, knowhis folly, that he honoured the best of the Achaeans in nothing.So speaking he roused the might and spirit of every man,and they fell upon the Trojans in a mass; and about them the shipsrang terribly with the shouts of the Achaeans.And the Trojans, when they saw the valiant son of Menoetius,himself and his squire, glittering with their armour,the spirit in them all was shaken, and the ranks were moved,expecting that by the ships the swift-footed son of Peleushad cast off his wrath and chosen friendship;and each looked about, where he might escape sheer destruction.And Patroclus first cast with his shining spearstraight at the middle, where the most were crowding,by the stern of the ship of great-hearted Protesilaus,and he struck Pyraechmes, who the Paeonians with horse-hair helmetshad led from Amydon, from the wide-flowing Axius;him he struck on the right shoulder; and he fell on his back in the dustwith a groan, and his comrades fled about him,the Paeonians; for Patroclus cast panic into all of themby killing their leader, who excelled in the fighting.He drove them from the ships, and quenched the burning fire;and half-burnt the ship was left there; and the Trojans fledin a wondrous rout; and the Danaans poured outalong the hollow ships; and a din past ceasing arose.As when from the high peak of a great mountainZeus the gatherer of lightning moves a dense cloud,and all the look-outs appear, and the sharp headlands,and the glens, and out of heaven the boundless upper air breaks forth;so the Danaans, having thrust the hostile fire from the ships,breathed a little, but there was no rest from war.For not yet were the Trojans fleeing headlongfrom the black ships before the Ares-beloved Achaeans,but still they stood against them, and gave way only by necessity.Then man took man, when the battle was scattered,among the leaders. And first the valiant son of Menoetiusat once, as Areilycus turned, struck his thighwith a sharp-pointed spear, and drove the bronze right through;and the spear broke the bone, and he fell face downupon the ground; and warlike Menelaus wounded Thoason the chest, bared beside the shield, and loosed his limbs.And the son of Phyleus, spying Amphiclus as he rushed on,was first to lunge at the back of his leg, where the muscleis thickest in a man; and about the spear's pointthe sinews were cut through; and darkness covered his eyes.And the sons of Nestor: one wounded Atymnius with the sharp spear,Antilochus, and drove the bronze spear through his flank;and he fell forward. And Maris at close quarters with his spearrushed at Antilochus, angered for his brother,standing before the corpse; but godlike Thrasymedeswas first to lunge before he could wound him, and did not miss,striking his shoulder straightway; and the spear's pointtore the back of the arm from the muscles, and crushed the bone through;and he fell with a thud, and darkness covered his eyes.So these two, vanquished by two brothers,went down into Erebus, the good comrades of Sarpedon,sons of Amisodarus, famed for the spear, who oncenurtured the Chimera, a bane to many men.And Ajax, son of Oileus, rushing at Cleobulus,took him alive, caught in the rout; but therehe loosed his strength, striking his neck with his hilted sword;and the whole sword was warmed with blood; and over his eyespurple death and strong fate laid hold.And Peneleos and Lycon ran together; for with spearsthey missed each other, and both cast in vain;then again they ran together with swords. There Lyconstruck the boss of the horse-haired helmet, and about the hiltthe blade was shattered; but he with his sword struck the neck of Peneleos under the ear,and the whole sword went in, and only the skinwas held, and the head hung aside, and his limbs were loosed.And Meriones, overtaking Acamas with swift feet,stabbed him as he was mounting the horses, on the right shoulder;and he fell from the chariot, and a mist poured over his eyes.And Idomeneus stabbed Erymas in the mouth with pitiless bronze;and the bronze spear passed right throughbeneath the brain, and shattered the white bones;the teeth were shaken out, and both his eyeswere filled with blood; and through mouth and nostrilshe blew it out gaping; and a black cloud of death covered him.These were the leaders of the Danaans, and each took his man.As wolves rush upon lambs or on kids,ravening, snatching them out from the flocks, when in the mountainsthey have been scattered by the shepherd's folly; and they, seeing them,quickly tear them apart, for they have a spirit without valour;so the Danaans rushed upon the Trojans; and they thought ofill-sounding panic, and forgot their furious valour.And great Ajax ever aimed at Hector of the bronze helmetto cast at him; but he, skilled in war,covered with his bull's-hide shield his broad shoulders,and watched the whizz of arrows and the thud of spears.Indeed he knew that the victory of battle leaned the other way;but even so he held his ground, and saved his dear comrades.As when from Olympus a cloud comes into the skyout of the bright upper air, when Zeus stretches forth a tempest,so from the ships arose their cry and their panic,and not in order did they cross back. And Hectorhis swift-footed horses bore away with his armour, and he left the Trojanhost behind, whom the dug trench held back unwilling.And many swift horses that drag chariots in the trenchbroke at the first pole and left the chariots of their lords;and Patroclus followed, urging the Danaans on furiously,with evil thoughts against the Trojans; and they with cry and panicfilled all the ways, when they were broken apart; and high a whirlwindscattered under the clouds, and the single-hoofed horseswere stretching back toward the city, away from the ships and the huts.And Patroclus, where he saw the host most in confusion,there he held on with a shout; and men fell beneath the axlesheadlong from the chariots, and the cars rolled over.And straight over the trench the swift horses leapt,immortal, which the gods gave to Peleus as splendid gifts,straining forward; and his heart called him on against Hector,for he longed to strike him; but his swift horses bore him away.As beneath a tempest the whole black earth lies heavyon an autumn day, when Zeus pours down the most violent water,when he is angry with men and is harsh toward them,who by force in the assembly judge crooked judgments,and drive out justice, not heeding the gods' vengeance;and all their rivers run full in their flowing,and the torrents then cut off many hillsides,and rushing down from the mountains to the purple sea they groan aloud,and the works of men waste away;so the Trojan horses groaned aloud as they ran.And Patroclus, when he had cut down the first ranks,drove them back toward the ships, and did not let them,eager though they were, set foot on the city, but in betweenthe ships and the river and the high wallhe kept killing as he rushed upon them, and took vengeance for many.There first he struck Pronous with his shining spearon the chest, bared beside the shield, and loosed his limbs;and he fell with a thud; and then Thestor, son of Enops,he rushed upon second; and he in his well-polished chariotsat crouching; for his mind was struck with panic, and from his handsthe reins were dropped; and Patroclus, standing by, stabbed with his spearhis right jaw, and drove it through his teeth,and dragged him over the rail, holding the spear, as when a mansitting on a jutting rock pulls a sacred fishout of the sea with line and shining bronze;so he dragged him from the chariot gaping, with his shining spear,and thrust him face down; and his spirit left him as he fell.Then he struck Erylaus as he rushed on, with a stoneon the middle of the head; and it was all split in twoinside the sturdy helmet; and he fell face downupon the ground, and soul-destroying death poured over him.Then Erymas and Amphoterus and Epaltesand Tlepolemus, son of Damastor, and Echius and Pyrisand Ipheus and Euippus and Polymelus, son of Argeas,all in succession he laid low upon the all-nurturing earth.And Sarpedon, when he saw his ungirdled comradesvanquished beneath the hands of Patroclus, son of Menoetius,called aloud, reproaching the godlike Lycians:Shame, you Lycians! Where do you flee? Now be swift.For I will go against this man myself, so that I may learnwho this is who prevails, and has already done many evilsto the Trojans, since he has loosed the knees of many brave men.He spoke, and from the chariot with his armour leapt to the ground.And Patroclus on the other side, when he saw him, sprang from his chariot.And they, as vultures with crooked claws and hooked beakson a high rock fight with loud screams,so they, screaming, rushed upon one another.Seeing them, the son of crooked-counselled Cronus pitied them,and spoke to Hera, his sister and his wife:Alas for me, that Sarpedon, dearest of men to me,is destined to be vanquished beneath Patroclus, son of Menoetius.Twofold my heart is urgent within me as I ponder,whether I take him alive out of the tearful battle,snatching him away, and set him in the rich land of Lycia,or now subdue him under the hands of the son of Menoetius.Then cow-eyed lady Hera answered him:Most dread son of Cronus, what a word you have spoken.A mortal man, long since destined by fate,do you wish to release again from ill-sounding death?Do it; but not all the other gods will praise you.And another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:if you send Sarpedon alive to his home,consider lest some other of the gods then wishto send his dear son away from the strong battle;for many around the great city of Priam fight,sons of immortals, and you will store up dread wrath in them.But if he is dear to you, and your heart pities him,then let him be, in the strong battle,vanquished under the hands of Patroclus, son of Menoetius;but when life and breath have left him,send Death and sweet Sleep to carry himuntil they come to the land of broad Lycia,where his brothers and kinsmen will bury himwith tomb and pillar; for that is the honour of the dead.So she spoke, and the father of men and gods did not refuse;and he poured down bloody drops upon the earth,honouring his dear son, whom Patroclus was aboutto slay in Troy of the rich soil, far from his homeland.And when they had come near, going at each other,then Patroclus struck the famous Thrasymelus,who was the good squire of lord Sarpedon,in the lower belly, and loosed his limbs.But Sarpedon with his shining spear missed him,rushing a second time, and he wounded the horse Pedasuswith his spear on the right shoulder; and it screamed, gasping out its life,and fell in the dust with a groan, and its spirit flew away.And the two drew apart, and the yoke creaked, and their reinswere tangled, when the trace-horse lay in the dust.And Automedon, famed for the spear, found a way;drawing the long-edged sword from beside his thick thigh,he sprang and cut off the trace-horse, and did not miss;and the two were straightened, and stretched in the reins;and the two came together again for heart-devouring strife.Then again Sarpedon missed with his shining spear,and the point of his spear passed over Patroclus' left shoulder,and did not strike him; and Patroclus rose up after with the bronze,and his weapon did not fly in vain from his hand,but he struck him where the midriff is set about the throbbing heart.And he fell, as when an oak falls or a white poplaror a tall pine, which in the mountains craftsmen mencut down with fresh-whetted axes to be a ship;so he lay outstretched before his horses and chariot,bellowing, grasping the bloody dust.As a lion kills a bull, coming among the herd,a tawny great-hearted one among the rolling-gaited cattle,and it perishes groaning under the lion's jaws;so under Patroclus the leader of the shield-bearing Lyciansraged as he was killed, and called his dear comrade by name:Glaucus, my friend, warrior among men, now truly you mustbe a spearman and a bold warrior;now let evil war be your desire, if you are swift.First rouse the leaders of the Lycians,going everywhere, to fight about Sarpedon;and then do you yourself fight for me with the bronze.For I shall be to you hereafter a shame and a reproachfor all days continually, if the Achaeansstrip my armour, when I have fallen in the gathering of the ships.But hold firm, and rouse all the host.So as he spoke the end of death covered him,his eyes and nostrils; and he, treading with his heel on his chest,dragged the spear from his flesh, and the midriff came with it;and with it he drew out his soul and the spear's point.And the Myrmidons held there his snorting horses,eager to flee, since they had left their lord's chariot.And dread grief came on Glaucus as he heard the voice;his heart was stirred, for he could not help him.And taking his arm with his hand he pressed it; for the woundafflicted him, which Teucer had struck him with an arrow as he rushed on,from the high wall, warding ruin from his comrades.And praying he spoke to far-shooting Apollo:Hear me, lord, whether you are in the rich land of Lyciaor in Troy; for you can hear on every sidea man in sorrow, as now sorrow has come to me.For I have this strong wound, and my arm all aboutis driven with sharp pains, and my bloodcannot be dried, and my shoulder is heavy with it;and I cannot hold my spear steady, nor goto fight the enemy. And the best of men has perished,Sarpedon, son of Zeus; and he does not defend his own son.But do you, lord, heal this strong wound for me,lull my pains, and give me strength, that I may callto the Lycian comrades and urge them to fight,and myself fight about the dead corpse.So he spoke praying, and Phoebus Apollo heard him.At once he stopped the pains, and from the grievous wounddried the black blood, and put strength in his spirit.And Glaucus knew it in his heart and rejoiced,that the great god had heard him quickly as he prayed.First he roused the leaders of the Lycians,going everywhere, to fight about Sarpedon;and then he went among the Trojans with long strides,to Polydamas son of Panthous and godlike Agenor,and he went to Aeneas and Hector of the bronze helmet,and standing near he spoke winged words:Hector, now you have wholly forgotten your allies,who for your sake, far from their friends and native land,are wasting their lives; and you are not willing to defend them.Sarpedon lies there, leader of the shield-bearing Lycians,who guarded Lycia by his judgments and his own strength;and brazen Ares subdued him beneath Patroclus with the spear.But, friends, stand by, and be angered in your hearts,lest the Myrmidons take the armour and shame the corpse,angered for all the Danaans who have perished,whom we killed by the swift ships with our spears.So he spoke, and grief seized the Trojans from the head down,unbearable, unyielding, since he was the buttress of their city,though he was a stranger; for many peoples followed with him,and he himself excelled in battle;and they went straight at the Danaans eagerly; and their leaderwas Hector, angered for Sarpedon. And the AchaeansPatroclus son of Menoetius roused with his shaggy heart;he spoke to the two Ajaxes first, eager themselves:Ajaxes, now let it be dear to you two to defend,such as you were before among men, or even better.There lies the man who first leapt over the Achaean wall,Sarpedon; but if we could take and shame him,and take the armour from his shoulders, and some of his comradeswho defend him we might subdue with pitiless bronze.So he spoke, and they themselves were eager to defend.And when on both sides they had strengthened their ranks,Trojans and Lycians and Myrmidons and Achaeans,they closed to fight about the dead corpse,shouting terribly; and the armour of men rang loudly.And Zeus stretched a deadly night over the strong battle,so that deadly toil of battle might be about his dear son.And the Trojans first pushed back the bright-eyed Achaeans;for there was struck no mean man among the Myrmidons,the son of great-hearted Agacles, godlike Epeigeus,who once ruled in well-peopled Budium;and then, having slain a noble cousin,he came as a suppliant to Peleus and to Thetis of the silver feet;and they sent him to follow with Achilles, breaker of men,to horse-rich Ilion, that he might fight the Trojans.Him, as he laid hold of the corpse, shining Hector struckon the head with a stone; and it was all split in twoinside the sturdy helmet; and he fell face down on the corpse,and soul-destroying death poured over him.And grief came on Patroclus for his fallen comrade,and he rushed through the front ranks like a hawk,a swift one, that scatters jackdaws and starlings;so straight at the Lycians, Patroclus, master of horsemen,you rushed, and at the Trojans, angered at heart for your comrade.And he struck Sthenelaus, the dear son of Ithaemenes,on the neck with a stone, and broke the tendons from it.And the front fighters gave way, and shining Hector too.As far as the cast of a long javelin is made,which a man throws trying it, either in a contestor in war, beneath soul-destroying enemies,so far the Trojans gave way, and the Achaeans pushed them back.And Glaucus first, leader of the shield-bearing Lycians,turned, and killed great-hearted Bathycles,the dear son of Chalcon, who dwelling in Hellasstood out among the Myrmidons in wealth and riches.Him Glaucus wounded in the middle of the chest with his spear,turning suddenly, when he caught him in pursuit;and he fell with a thud; and thick grief seized the Achaeans,that a good man had fallen; and the Trojans greatly rejoiced,and they stood about him coming in a mass; and the Achaeansdid not forget their valour, but bore their might straight at them.Then Meriones again took a helmeted Trojan,bold Laogonus, son of Onetor, who was priest of Zeusof Ida, and was honoured as a god by the people.Him he struck beneath the jaw and ear; and quickly his spiritwent from his limbs, and hateful darkness took him.And Aeneas cast his bronze spear at Meriones;for he hoped to hit him as he advanced under his shield.But he, seeing it face on, avoided the bronze spear;for he bent forward, and the long spear behind himwas fixed in the ground, and the spear's butt was shakenand thereupon mighty Ares loosed its fury.And the point of Aeneas' spear, quivering along the ground,went on, since it had leapt in vain from his strong hand.And Aeneas was angered in his heart, and spoke:Meriones, soon my spear would have stopped you right through,even though you are a dancer, if only I had struck you.And Meriones, famed for the spear, answered him:Aeneas, hard is it for you, mighty though you are,to quench the strength of any man who comes against youto defend himself; and you too are but a mortal.And if I struck you in the middle with the sharp bronze,soon, strong though you are and trusting in your hands,you would give glory to me, and your soul to Hades famed for horses.So he spoke, and the valiant son of Menoetius chided him:Meriones, why do you, a good man, say such things?O friend, the Trojans will not give way from the corpsefor reproachful words; before that, the earth will hold someone.For the end of war is in our hands, and of words in counsel;so we must not pile up talk, but fight.So saying he led the way, and the godlike man followed with him.And as the din of wood-cutting men arisesin the mountain glens, and the sound is heard from afar,so from the broad-wayed earth arose their dinof bronze and hide and well-made shields,as they smote with swords and two-edged spears.Nor could a knowing man any longer have known godlike Sarpedon,since with missiles and blood and dusthe was wrapped from head right down to the tips of his feet.And they kept thronging about the corpse, as when fliesbuzz in a farmstead about the brimming milk-pailsin the spring season, when the milk wets the vessels;so they thronged about the corpse, and never did Zeusturn his bright eyes from the strong battle,but ever looked upon them and pondered in his heart,deeply brooding about the slaughter of Patroclus,whether now even him, in the strong battle,there over godlike Sarpedon, shining Hectorshould slay with the bronze, and take the armour from his shoulders,or whether he should still heap sheer toil on more men.And thus, as he pondered, it seemed better to himthat the good squire of Achilles, son of Peleus,should again push the Trojans and bronze-helmed Hectorback toward the city, and take the life from many.And into Hector first he put a coward spirit;and mounting his chariot he turned to flee, and called to the otherTrojans to flee; for he knew the sacred scales of Zeus.Then not even the mighty Lycians stayed, but fledall, when they saw their king struck in the spiritlying in the gathering of the dead; for many had fallenover him, when the son of Cronus stretched the strong strife.And they took the armour from Sarpedon's shoulders,the bronze gleaming armour, which to the hollow shipsthe valiant son of Menoetius gave his comrades to carry.And then Zeus the cloud-gatherer spoke to Apollo:Come now, dear Phoebus, cleanse the dark bloodfrom Sarpedon, coming out of the missiles, and thencarry him far away and wash him in the river's streams,and anoint him with ambrosia, and put immortal garments about him;and send him to be borne by swift escorts,Sleep and Death, twin brothers, who will quicklyset him in the rich land of broad Lycia,where his brothers and kinsmen will bury himwith tomb and pillar; for that is the honour of the dead.So he spoke, and Apollo did not disobey his father.And he went down from the Idaean mountains into the dread conflict,and at once, lifting godlike Sarpedon out of the missiles,carrying him far away he washed him in the river's streams,and anointed him with ambrosia, and put immortal garments about him;and he sent him to be borne by swift escorts,Sleep and Death, twin brothers, who quicklylaid him in the rich land of broad Lycia.And Patroclus, having called to his horses and Automedon,pursued the Trojans and Lycians, and was greatly blinded,fool that he was; for if he had kept the word of the son of Peleus,he would surely have escaped the evil doom of black death.But the mind of Zeus is ever stronger than that of men,who scares even a valiant man and takes away victoryeasily, when he himself urges him to fight;he then also roused his spirit in his breast.There, whom did you first, whom last strip of his armour,Patroclus, when the gods called you to death?Adrestus first, and Autonous and Echeclus,and Perimus Megades and Epistor and Melanippus,and then Elasus and Mulius and Pylartes;these he killed; and the others each thought of flight.Then would the sons of the Achaeans have taken high-gated Troyunder Patroclus' hands, for he raged before them with his spear,if Phoebus Apollo had not stood on the well-built towerwith deadly thoughts for him, and helping the Trojans.Three times Patroclus climbed the corner of the high wall,and three times Apollo thrust him back,smiting his shining shield with immortal hands.But when he rushed on a fourth time, like a god,shouting terribly he spoke winged words:Give way, heaven-born Patroclus; it is not your fateto sack the city of the proud Trojans under your spear,nor under Achilles, who is far better than you.So he spoke, and Patroclus drew back a long way,avoiding the wrath of far-shooting Apollo.And Hector kept his single-hoofed horses at the Scaean gates;for he doubted whether to drive on and fight again in the rout,or to call the host to gather at the wall.As he pondered these things, Phoebus Apollo stood by him,likened to a man in his prime and strong,Asius, who was uncle to Hector, tamer of horses,own brother of Hecabe, and son of Dymas,who dwelt in Phrygia by the streams of the Sangarius;likened to him, the son of Zeus, Apollo, spoke:Hector, why do you leave off from the battle? You should not.Would that I were as much better than you as I am lesser;then you would soon shrink hatefully from the war.But come, drive your strong-hoofed horses at Patroclus,if perhaps you may kill him, and Apollo may give you glory.So speaking the god went back into the toil of men,and shining Hector ordered the wise Cebrionesto drive the horses into battle. And Apollowent and plunged into the throng, and cast a rout on the Argives,an evil one, and gave glory to the Trojans and to Hector.And Hector left the other Danaans and did not strip them;but he drove his strong-hoofed horses at Patroclus.And Patroclus on the other side leapt from his horses to the ground,holding his spear in his left hand; and with the other he seized a stone,a jagged marble, which his hand covered all about,and he threw it leaning into it, nor did he shrink long from the man,nor did his weapon miss, but he struck Hector's charioteerCebriones, the bastard son of famous Priam,holding the horses' reins, on the forehead with the sharp stone.And the stone crushed together both his brows, nor did it holdto the bone, and his eyes fell to the ground in the dustbefore his feet; and he, like a diver,fell from the well-made chariot, and his spirit left his bones.And mocking him you spoke, Patroclus, rider of horses:Well now, truly a nimble man, how easily he tumbles.If he were somewhere in the fishy sea,this man would satisfy many by diving for oysters,jumping from a ship, even if it were stormy,as now on the plain he easily tumbles from the horses.So there are tumblers among the Trojans too.So saying he had gone at the hero Cebrioneswith the rush of a lion, who, ravaging farmsteads,was struck on the chest, and his own valour destroyed him;so upon Cebriones, Patroclus, you sprang eagerly.And Hector on the other side leapt from his horses to the ground.And the two fought about Cebriones like two lions,who on the mountain tops over a slain deerboth hungry, in great pride, fight together;so about Cebriones the two masters of the war-cry,Patroclus son of Menoetius and shining Hector,strove to cut each other's flesh with pitiless bronze.Hector, when he had grasped the head, did not let go;and Patroclus held the foot on the other side; and the othersTrojans and Danaans joined in strong battle.As the East Wind and the South Wind quarrel with each otherin the mountain glens to shake the deep forest,oak and ash and the long-barked cornel,which hurl their long-pointed branches at each otherwith a wondrous noise, and there is a crashing of them as they break;so Trojans and Achaeans, leaping upon one another,kept killing, and neither side thought of deadly panic.And many sharp spears were fixed about Cebriones,and winged arrows leaping from the bowstrings,and many great stones battered the shieldsof those fighting about him; and he in a whirl of dustlay, great in his greatness, forgetful of his horsemanship.As long as the Sun had climbed to the middle of the sky,so long the weapons of both sides reached their mark, and the host fell;but when the Sun turned toward the unyoking of oxen,then indeed beyond their due the Achaeans were the stronger.They dragged the hero Cebriones out of the missiles,out of the Trojans' battle-cry, and took the armour from his shoulders,and Patroclus leapt in, thinking evil for the Trojans.Three times then he sprang on them, like swift Ares,shouting terribly, and three times he killed nine men.But when he rushed on a fourth time, like a god,then, Patroclus, the end of your life appeared;for Phoebus met you in the strong battle,terrible; and he did not see him coming through the rout,for he came against him wrapped in thick mist;and he stood behind him, and struck his back and broad shoulderswith the flat of his hand, and his eyes spun round.And from his head Phoebus Apollo struck the helmet;and it, rolling, rang beneath the horses' hooves,the four-horned ridged helmet, and the horse-hair crest was defiledwith blood and dust; but before it was not rightthat the horse-haired helmet be defiled with dust,but it guarded the head and lovely brow of a godlike man,of Achilles; but then Zeus gave it to Hectorto wear on his head, and destruction was near to him.And in his hands the long-shadowing spear was all broken,heavy, great, sturdy, fitted with a point; and from his shouldersthe fringed shield with its strap fell to the ground.And lord Apollo, son of Zeus, loosed his corselet.And folly seized his mind, and his shining limbs were loosed,and he stood amazed; and behind him in the back with a sharp spear,between the shoulders, close at hand, a Dardanian man struck him,Euphorbus son of Panthous, who excelled his fellowsin the spear and in horsemanship and in swift feet;for even then he had made twenty men dismount from their horses,first coming with his chariot, learning war;who first hurled his weapon at you, Patroclus, rider of horses,but did not subdue you; and he ran back again, and mixed in the throng,snatching the ashen spear from his flesh, nor did he awaitPatroclus, unarmed though he was in the fight.And Patroclus, subdued by the god's blow and by the spear,drew back into the company of his comrades, avoiding death.And Hector, when he saw great-hearted Patroclusdrawing back, struck with the sharp bronze,came near him through the ranks, and wounded him with his spearin the lowest part of the belly, and drove the bronze right through;and he fell with a thud, and greatly grieved the host of the Achaeans.As when a lion overpowers a tireless boar in fight,who on the mountain tops fight in great prideabout a small spring, and both wish to drink;and the lion, panting much, subdues him by his strength;so after he had killed many, the valiant son of MenoetiusHector son of Priam took his life at close quarters with the spear,and boasting over him he spoke winged words:Patroclus, surely you said you would sack our city,and having taken the free day from the Trojan womenwould bring them in the ships to your dear native land,fool; but before that, Hector's swift horsesstretch out their feet to fight; and I myself with the spearstand out among the war-loving Trojans, warding off from themthe day of necessity; but here the vultures will eat you.Wretch, not even noble Achilles helped you,who surely gave you many commands as he stayed behind when you went:Do not, Patroclus, master of horsemen, come back to meat the hollow ships before you have torn the bloody tunicof man-slaying Hector about his chest.So he surely spoke to you, and persuaded your foolish mind.And faintly you answered him, Patroclus, rider of horses:Now, Hector, boast greatly; for Zeus has given victory to you,and Apollo, the son of Cronus, who subdued meeasily; for they themselves took the armour from my shoulders.And had such men, even twenty, met me,they would all have perished there, subdued under my spear.But deadly fate and the son of Leto killed me,and among men Euphorbus; and you strip me as the third.And another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:you yourself will not live long either, but alreadydeath and strong fate stand near you,to be subdued under the hands of blameless Achilles, son of Aeacus.So as he spoke the end of death covered him;and his soul, flying from his limbs, had gone to Hades,lamenting its fate, leaving behind manhood and youth.And to him, dead though he was, shining Hector spoke:Patroclus, why do you prophesy sheer destruction for me?Who knows whether Achilles, the son of fair-haired Thetis,may not be struck first by my spear and lose his life?So speaking he drew the bronze spear from the wound,setting his heel on him, and pushed him on his back away from the spear.And at once with his spear he went after Automedon,the godlike squire of the swift-footed son of Aeacus;for he longed to strike him; but his swift horses bore him away,immortal, which the gods gave to Peleus as splendid gifts.

So they fought around the well-benched ship;and Patroclus stood beside Achilles, shepherd of the people,shedding hot tears like a dark springthat pours its murky water down a sheer cliff.Seeing him, swift-footed brilliant Achilles pitied him,and spoke to him with winged words:Why are you crying, Patroclus, like a little girlwho runs beside her mother and begs to be picked up,grabbing at her dress and holding her back though she is hurrying,and looking at her tearfully until she is lifted?Like her, Patroclus, you are shedding soft tears.Is it some news you want to tell the Myrmidons, or me,or have you alone heard some message from Phthia?They say Menoetius son of Actor is still alive,and Peleus son of Aeacus lives among the Myrmidons;if both of them were dead we would grieve deeply.Or are you grieving for the Argives, how they are being destroyedby the hollow ships, because of their own wrongdoing?Speak out, do not hide it in your mind, so we both may know.Then with a heavy groan you answered, Patroclus, horseman:Achilles, son of Peleus, by far the greatest of the Achaeans,do not be angry; this grief has forced itself on the Achaeans.For all of them, as many as were the best before,lie among the ships, hit by weapons or wounded.Diomedes son of Tydeus, the strong one, has been hit,and Odysseus famous for the spear has been wounded, and Agamemnon too,and Eurypylus has been hit in the thigh with an arrow.The healers with their many herbs are busy around them,treating their wounds; but you, Achilles, cannot be moved.May that anger you are nursing never take hold of me,you of terrible courage; what good will you be to anyone born later,if you do not keep shameful ruin away from the Argives?Pitiless one, then no horseman Peleus was your father,nor was Thetis your mother; the grey sea gave you birth,and the steep rocks, since your mind is so unyielding.But if in your heart you are avoiding some prophecy,and your honoured mother has told you something from Zeus,then send me out at least quickly, and give me the rest of the army,the Myrmidons, in case I may become some light for the Danaans.And give me your armour to put on my shoulders,so that in it the Trojans, thinking I am you, may hold back from fighting,and the warlike sons of the Achaeans may breathe again,worn out as they are; and there is little relief in war.Easily we, fresh, could push back the tired men with a shouttoward the city, away from the ships and the huts.So he spoke, begging him, great fool that he was; for truly he wasbegging for his own evil death and doom.And greatly troubled, swift-footed Achilles answered him:Oh, heaven-born Patroclus, what a thing you have said.I pay no attention to any prophecy that I know of,and my honoured mother has told me nothing from Zeus;but this terrible grief comes on my heart and spirit,when a man wants to rob a man who is his equaland take back his prize, because he is stronger.This is terrible grief to me, since I suffered pain in my heart.The girl the sons of the Achaeans picked out as my prize,which I won with my spear after I sacked a well-walled city,lord Agamemnon took her back out of my hands,the son of Atreus, as if I were some dishonoured wanderer.But let those things be as they are; there was no wayto be endlessly angry in my heart; yet I did saythat I would not stop my anger beforethe battle-cry and the war came to my own ships.So you put on my glorious armour on your shoulders,and lead the war-loving Myrmidons into battle,since a dark cloud of Trojans has settledheavily on the ships, and they are pressed against the sea's edge,the Argives still holding only a small piece of ground,and the whole city of Troy has come on confidently;for they do not see the front of my helmetshining near; soon they would fill the trenches with corpses as they ran,if lord Agamemnon were kindly-minded to me;but now they fight over the army.For in the hands of Diomedes son of Tydeusthe spear no longer rages to keep ruin from the Danaans,and I have not yet heard the voice of the son of Atreus shoutingfrom his hateful head; but around man-slaying Hectoras he calls to the Trojans it is breaking, and they with their war-cryhold the whole plain, winning the battle against the Achaeans.But even so, Patroclus, keeping ruin from the ships,fall on them hard, in case they burn the ships with blazing fireand take away our dear journey home.And obey, as I put the end of my words in your heart,so that you may win me great honour and gloryfrom all the Danaans, and they may give back the lovely girland add splendid gifts.When you have driven them from the ships, come back again; and if the loud-thundering husband of Heragrants you to win glory,do not long to fight without meagainst the war-loving Trojans; you will make me less honoured.And do not, exulting in war and killing,as you cut down Trojans, lead the way to Ilion,in case one of the ever-living gods from Olympuscomes down; far-shooting Apollo loves them greatly.But turn back again, once you have given light to the ships,and let them fight on still on the plain.For if only, father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo,no Trojan might escape death, as many as there are,nor any Argive, and we two might escape destruction,so that we alone might loose Troy's sacred veils.So they said such things to each other,but Ajax no longer stood his ground; he was overwhelmed by missiles;the mind of Zeus subdued him, and the noble Trojanshitting him; and around his temples the shininghelmet rang terribly as it was struck, and it was always being hiton the well-made cheek-pieces; his left shoulder was growing wearyfrom always holding the flashing shield steady; and they could notshake him, though they pressed him with missiles.He was always gripped by painful gasping, and sweatpoured in streams from his limbs all over, and he could notcatch his breath anywhere; evil was heaped on evil everywhere.Tell me now, Muses who live on Olympus,how the fire first fell on the Achaeans' ships.Hector, standing near Ajax, struck his ashen spearwith his great sword, from behind at the butt of the shaft,and sheared it right through; and Ajax son of Telamonheld the maimed spear useless in his hand, and far from himthe bronze point rang as it fell to the ground.And Ajax knew in his blameless heart, and shudderedat the work of the gods, that Zeus who thunders on highwas completely cutting off the plans of battle, and wanted victory for the Trojans;he gave way from the missiles. And they threw tireless fireon the swift ship; and at once unquenchable flame poured over it.So fire wrapped the stern; but Achillesstruck his thighs and spoke to Patroclus:Wake up, heaven-born Patroclus, master of horsemen;I see the roar of hostile fire by the ships;in case they take the ships and there is no escape left,put on your armour quickly, and I will gather the army.So he spoke, and Patroclus armed himself in shining bronze.First he put the greaves on his shins,beautiful ones, fitted with silver ankle-clasps;then he put the corselet around his chest,dappled and starry, of the swift-footed son of Aeacus.He slung the sword over his shoulders, silver-studded,bronze, and after that the shield, big and strong;on his mighty head he put the well-made helmetwith its horse-hair crest; and the crest nodded terribly above.He took two strong spears that fitted his hands.But he did not take the spear of blameless Aeacus' son,heavy, huge, strong; no other of the Achaeans couldbrandish it, but only Achilles knew how to wield it,the Pelian ash, which Cheiron gave to his dear fatherfrom the top of Pelion, to be death for heroes.And he told Automedon to yoke the horses quickly,whom he honoured most after Achilles, breaker of men,and who was most faithful in battle to wait for his call.And Automedon led the swift horses under the yoke,Xanthus and Balius, who flew along with the breezes,whom the Harpy Podarge bore to the West Windas she grazed in the meadow beside the stream of Ocean.And in the side-traces he put blameless Pedasus,which Achilles had once brought, after sacking Eetion's city,which, though mortal, ran with the immortal horses.And Achilles went among the Myrmidons and armed themin all the huts with their armour; and they, like wolvesthat eat raw flesh, with unspeakable courage in their hearts,who, after killing a big horned stag in the mountains,devour it; and all their cheeks are red with blood;and they go in packs to a dark springto lap the black water with their thin tongues,belching up the blood's gore from the edge; and the spiritin their breasts is fearless, and their belly is stuffed full;such were the leaders and lords of the Myrmidonsaround the good squire of the swift-footed son of Aeacusrushing; and among them stood warlike Achilles,urging on the horses and the shield-bearing men.Fifty were the swift ships in which Achilles,dear to Zeus, led the way to Troy; and in eachthere were fifty men, his comrades at the oars;and he made five leaders, whom he trustedto give orders; and he himself ruled with great authority.Of the first company Menesthius, gleaming in his corselet, was leader,son of the river Spercheius, fed by Zeus,whom the daughter of Peleus, beautiful Polydora, boreto tireless Spercheius, a mortal woman bedded with a god,but in name to Borus son of Perieres,who openly married her, giving countless bride-gifts.Of the second, warlike Eudorus was leader,a maiden's son, whom beautiful Polymele bore in the dance,daughter of Phylas; her the strong slayer of Argusloved, when he saw her with his eyes among the singing girlsin the dance of Artemis of the golden distaff, loud with song.And at once he went up to the upper room and lay with her in secret,kind Hermes, and gave her a splendid son,Eudorus, swift of foot and a fighter.But when Eileithyia, the goddess who brings birth-pangs,brought him out to the light and he saw the rays of the sun,the strong might of Echecles son of Actor took herto his home, after giving countless bride-gifts;and the old man Phylas raised him well and cared for him,loving him fondly as if he were his own son.Of the third, warlike Peisander was leader,son of Maemalus, who stood out among all the Myrmidonsat fighting with the spear, next after the comrade of Peleus' son.Of the fourth the old horseman Phoenix was leader,and of the fifth blameless Alcimedon, son of Laerces.But when Achilles had set them all with their leaders,well ordered, he gave them a strong command:Myrmidons, let none of you forget the threatsyou made against the Trojans by the swift shipsall through my anger, and each of you blamed me, saying:Hard-hearted son of Peleus, your mother nursed you on gall,pitiless one, who keep your unwilling comrades by the ships;let us go home again with our sea-crossing ships,since such evil anger has fallen on your heart.You kept saying these things as you gathered; and now the great deedof war has appeared, which you wanted before.Now let each man with a brave heart fight against the Trojans.So he spoke and roused the strength and spirit of each man.And the ranks closed up more firmly when they heard their king.As when a man fits a wall with close-set stonesfor a high house, keeping out the force of the winds,so the helmets and the bossed shields were fitted together.Shield pressed on shield, helmet on helmet, man on man;and the horse-hair helmets touched with their shining bossesas they nodded, so close they stood to one another.And in front of them all two men armed themselves,Patroclus and Automedon, of one spirit,to fight in front of the Myrmidons. But Achilleswent to his hut and opened the lid of the chest,the beautiful one, cunningly made, which Thetis of the silver feethad put on the ship for him to bring, well filled with tunicsand wind-proof cloaks and shaggy blankets.And there was a cup made for him, and no otherman ever drank the bright wine from it,nor did he pour a libation to any god except father Zeus.This he took from the chest and cleaned with sulphurfirst, then washed it in the beautiful streams of water,and washed his own hands, and poured out the bright wine.Then he prayed, standing in the middle of the courtyard, and poured the winelooking up to heaven; and Zeus who delights in thunder noticed him:Zeus, lord, Dodonaean, Pelasgian, dwelling far away,ruling over wintry Dodona, and around you live the Selloi,your interpreters, unwashed of foot, sleeping on the ground;you did hear my word once when I prayed,you honoured me, and greatly crushed the army of the Achaeans;and even now fulfil this wish for me:I myself will stay in the gathering of the ships,but I am sending my comrade among the many Myrmidonsto fight; give glory with him, far-seeing Zeus,and strengthen the heart in his breast, so that Hector toomay know whether my squire knows how to fighteven alone, or whether his hands are then irresistiblein their fury, when I go into the turmoil of Ares.But when he has driven battle and the war-cry away from the ships,may he come back unharmed to the swift shipswith all his armour and his close-fighting comrades.So he spoke in prayer, and Zeus the counsellor heard him.The father granted him one thing but denied the other:he granted him to push back war and battle from the ships,but he denied that he come back safe from the battle.So after pouring the libation and praying to father Zeus,he went back into the hut and put the cup in the chest,and he stood out in front of the hut, and still in his heart he wantedto see the terrible conflict of Trojans and Achaeans.And they, armed, with great-hearted Patroclus,marched, until they sprang proudly on the Trojans.And at once they poured out like waspsof the roadside, which boys are used to angering,always teasing them as they keep their homes by the road,foolish boys; and they make a common trouble for many.If some passing traveller walking bydisturbs them unwillingly, they, with a brave heart,all fly forward and defend their brood.With such heart and spirit the Myrmidons thenpoured out from the ships; and an unquenchable shout arose.And Patroclus called to his comrades, shouting loudly:Myrmidons, comrades of Achilles son of Peleus,be men, my friends, and remember your furious courage,so that we may honour the son of Peleus, who is by far the bestof the Argives at the ships, and his close-fighting squires;and let the son of Atreus, wide-ruling Agamemnon, knowhis folly, that he honoured the best of the Achaeans in nothing.So he spoke and roused the strength and spirit of every man,and they fell on the Trojans in a mass; and around them the shipsrang terribly with the shouts of the Achaeans.And the Trojans, when they saw the brave son of Menoetius,himself and his squire, glittering in their armour,the spirit in them all was shaken, and the ranks were moved,expecting that by the ships the swift-footed son of Peleushad thrown off his anger and chosen friendship;each man looked around for a way to escape sheer destruction.And Patroclus first cast his shining spearstraight at the middle, where the most were crowding,by the stern of the ship of great-hearted Protesilaus,and he struck Pyraechmes, who had led the Paeonians with horse-hair helmetsfrom Amydon, from the wide-flowing Axius;he struck him on the right shoulder; and he fell on his back in the dustwith a groan, and his comrades fled around him,the Paeonians; for Patroclus threw panic into them allby killing their leader, who was best at fighting.He drove them from the ships and quenched the burning fire;the half-burnt ship was left there; and the Trojans fledin a wondrous rout; and the Danaans poured outalong the hollow ships; and a din that never stopped arose.As when from a high peak of a great mountainZeus the gatherer of lightning moves a dense cloud,and all the lookouts appear, and the sharp headlandsand the valleys, and from heaven the boundless upper air breaks open;so the Danaans, having driven the hostile fire from the ships,breathed a little, but there was no rest from war.For the Trojans were not yet fleeing headlongfrom the black ships before the Ares-beloved Achaeans,but they still stood against them, and gave way only from necessity.Then man killed man, when the battle was scattered,among the leaders. And first the brave son of Menoetiusat once, as Areilycus turned, struck his thighwith a sharp spear and drove the bronze right through;the spear broke the bone, and he fell face downon the ground; and warlike Menelaus wounded Thoason the chest, bared beside the shield, and loosed his limbs.And the son of Phyleus, watching Amphiclus rush at him,got there first and lunged at the back of his leg, where the muscleis thickest in a man; and around the spear's pointthe sinews were cut through; and darkness covered his eyes.And the sons of Nestor: one wounded Atymnius with the sharp spear,Antilochus, and drove the bronze spear through his flank;and he fell forward. And Maris, at close quarters with his spear,rushed at Antilochus, angry for his brother,standing in front of the corpse; but godlike Thrasymedesgot there first with his lunge before he could wound him, and did not miss,striking his shoulder at once; and the spear's pointtore the back of the arm from the muscles and crushed the bone right through;and he fell with a thud, and darkness covered his eyes.So these two, beaten by two brothers,went down to Erebus, the good comrades of Sarpedon,spearmen sons of Amisodarus, who onceraised the Chimera, a curse to many men.And Ajax son of Oileus, rushing at Cleobulus,took him alive, caught in the rout; but therehe loosed his strength, striking his neck with his hilted sword;and the whole sword was warmed with blood; and over his eyespurple death and strong fate took hold.And Peneleos and Lycon ran at each other; for with their spearsthey missed each other, and both threw in vain;then they ran at each other again with swords. There Lyconstruck the boss of the horse-hair helmet, and around the hiltthe blade was shattered; but Peneleos struck his neck under the ear with his sword,and the whole sword went in, and only the skinheld it, and the head hung aside, and his limbs were loosed.And Meriones, catching Acamas with swift feet,stabbed him as he was climbing on the horses, on the right shoulder;and he fell from the chariot, and a mist poured over his eyes.And Idomeneus stabbed Erymas in the mouth with pitiless bronze;the bronze spear passed right throughbeneath the brain and shattered the white bones;the teeth were shaken out, and both his eyeswere filled with blood; and through mouth and nostrilshe blew it out gaping; and a black cloud of death covered him.These were the leaders of the Danaans, and each took his man.As wolves rush on lambs or kids,ravenous, snatching them from the flocks, when in the mountainsthey have been scattered by the shepherd's carelessness; and the wolves, seeing them,quickly tear them apart, for they have no brave spirit;so the Danaans rushed on the Trojans; and they rememberedill-sounding panic, and forgot their furious courage.And great Ajax kept aiming at Hector of the bronze helmet,wanting to hit him with a spear; but he, skilled in war,covering his broad shoulders with his bull's-hide shield,watched the whizz of arrows and the thud of spears.Indeed he knew that the victory in the battle was leaning the other way;but even so he held his ground and saved his dear comrades.As when from Olympus a cloud comes into the skyout of the bright upper air, when Zeus stretches out a storm,so from the ships arose their cry and panic,and they did not cross back in order. And Hectorhis swift-footed horses carried away with his armour, and he left the Trojanarmy behind, whom the dug trench held back unwilling.And many swift horses dragging chariots in the trenchbroke the front pole and left their lords' chariots,and Patroclus followed, urging the Danaans on hard,meaning evil for the Trojans; and they with cries and panicfilled all the roads, when they were broken apart; and high up a squallscattered under the clouds, and the single-hoofed horseswere straining back toward the city, away from the ships and huts.And Patroclus, where he saw the army most confused,there he pressed on shouting; and men fell under the axlesheadlong from the chariots, and the cars overturned.And straight over the trench the swift horses jumped,the immortal ones, which the gods gave to Peleus as splendid gifts,straining forward; and his heart called him on against Hector,for he longed to hit him; but his swift horses carried him away.As under a storm the whole black earth is heavyon an autumn day, when Zeus pours down the most violent water,when he is angry with men and is harsh,who by force in the assembly judge crooked judgmentsand drive out justice, paying no heed to the gods' vengeance;all their rivers run full,and the torrents then cut away many hillsides,and rushing down from the mountains to the purple sea they groan aloud,and the works of men are diminished;so the Trojan horses groaned aloud as they ran.And Patroclus, when he had cut down the first ranks,drove them back toward the ships, and would not let them,eager as they were, set foot in the city, but in betweenthe ships and the river and the high wallhe kept killing as he rushed, and took vengeance for many.There he first struck Pronous with his shining spearon the chest, bared beside the shield, and loosed his limbs;and he fell with a thud; and then Thestor son of Enopshe rushed at second; and he, in his well-polished chariot,sat crouching; for his mind was struck with panic, and from his handsthe reins dropped; and Patroclus, standing by, stabbed with his spearhis right jaw and drove it through his teeth,and dragged him over the rail, holding the spear, as when a mansitting on a jutting rock pulls a sacred fishout of the sea with a line and shining bronze;so he dragged him from the chariot, gaping, with his shining spear,and pushed him face down; and his spirit left him as he fell.Then he hit Erylaus as he rushed at him with a stoneon the middle of the head; and it was all split in twoinside the sturdy helmet; and he fell face downon the ground, and soul-destroying death poured over him.Then Erymas and Amphoterus and Epaltesand Tlepolemus son of Damastor and Echius and Pyrisand Ipheus and Euippus and Polymelus son of Argeas,all in a row he laid low on the all-nourishing earth.And Sarpedon, when he saw his comrades without their beltsbeaten under the hands of Patroclus son of Menoetius,called out, rebuking the godlike Lycians:Shame, you Lycians! Where are you running? Now be swift.For I will go against this man myself, so I may learnwho this is who is winning, and who has already done many evilsto the Trojans, since he has loosed the knees of many brave men.He spoke, and leapt from the chariot with his armour to the ground.And Patroclus on the other side, when he saw him, sprang from his chariot.And they, as vultures with crooked claws and hooked beakson a high rock fight with loud screams,so they, screaming, rushed at each other.Seeing them, the son of crooked-counselled Cronus pitied them,and spoke to Hera, his sister and his wife:Alas for me, that Sarpedon, dearest of men to me,is fated to be beaten under Patroclus son of Menoetius.Two ways my heart is pulled as I think it over,whether to snatch him up alive out of the tearful battleand set him down in the rich land of Lycia,or to beat him down now under the hands of the son of Menoetius.Then cow-eyed lady Hera answered him:Most terrible son of Cronus, what a thing you have said.A mortal man, long ago marked out by fate,do you want to release again from ill-sounding death?Do it; but not all the other gods will praise you.And I will tell you something else, and put it in your heart:if you send Sarpedon alive to his home,watch out that some other god does not then wantto send his own dear son away from the strong battle;for many around the great city of Priam are fighting,sons of immortals, and you will store up terrible anger in them.But if he is dear to you, and your heart grieves for him,then let him be beaten, in the strong battle,under the hands of Patroclus son of Menoetius;but when life and breath have left him,send Death and sweet Sleep to carry himuntil they come to the land of broad Lycia,where his brothers and kinsmen will bury himwith a tomb and a pillar; for that is the honour of the dead.So she spoke, and the father of men and gods did not disobey;and he poured down bloody drops on the earth,honouring his dear son, whom Patroclus was goingto kill in Troy of the rich soil, far from his homeland.And when they had come close, going at each other,then Patroclus struck the famous Thrasymelus,who was the good squire of lord Sarpedon,in the lower belly, and loosed his limbs.But Sarpedon with his shining spear missed him,rushing a second time, and he wounded the horse Pedasuswith his spear on the right shoulder; and it screamed, gasping out its life,and fell in the dust with a groan, and its spirit flew away.And the two pulled apart, and the yoke creaked, and their reinswere tangled, when the trace-horse lay in the dust.And Automedon, famous for the spear, found a way out;drawing the long-edged sword from beside his thick thigh,he sprang and cut off the trace-horse, and did not miss;and the two were pulled straight, and stretched on the reins;and the two came together again for heart-eating strife.Then again Sarpedon missed with his shining spear,and the point of his spear went over Patroclus' left shoulderand did not hit him; and Patroclus rose up after with the bronze,and his weapon did not fly in vain from his hand,but he struck him where the midriff is set around the throbbing heart.And he fell, as when an oak falls or a white poplaror a tall pine, which in the mountains workmencut down with newly sharpened axes to make a ship;so he lay stretched out in front of his horses and chariot,bellowing, clutching the bloody dust.As a lion kills a bull, coming among the herd,a tawny great-hearted one among the rolling-gaited cattle,and it dies groaning under the lion's jaws;so under Patroclus the leader of the shield-bearing Lyciansraged as he was killed, and called his dear comrade by name:Glaucus, my friend, warrior among men, now you really mustbe a spearman and a bold warrior;now let evil war be your desire, if you are quick.First rouse the leaders of the Lycians,going all around, to fight for Sarpedon;and then you yourself fight for me with the bronze.For I will be a shame and a reproach to youfor all days forever, if the Achaeansstrip my armour, when I have fallen in the gathering of the ships.But hold firm, and rouse the whole army.So as he spoke, the end of death covered him,his eyes and nostrils; and he, treading with his heel on his chest,dragged the spear out of his flesh, and the midriff came with it;and with it he drew out his life and the spear's point.And the Myrmidons held his snorting horses there,eager to flee, since they had left their lord's chariot.And terrible grief came on Glaucus as he heard his voice;his heart was stirred, for he could not help him.And he took his arm with his hand and pressed it; for the woundwas hurting him, which Teucer had struck him with an arrow as he rushed on,from the high wall, keeping ruin from his comrades.And in prayer he spoke to far-shooting Apollo:Hear me, lord, whether you are in the rich land of Lyciaor in Troy; for you can hear on every sidea man in trouble, as trouble has now come to me.For I have this strong wound, and my arm all aroundis driven with sharp pains, and my bloodcannot be dried, and my shoulder is heavy from it;and I cannot hold my spear steady, nor goout to fight the enemy. And the best of men has died,Sarpedon, son of Zeus; and he does not defend his own son.But you, lord, heal this strong wound for me,lull my pains, and give me strength, so that I may callto the Lycian comrades and urge them to fight,and myself fight around the dead corpse.So he spoke in prayer, and Phoebus Apollo heard him.At once he stopped the pains, and from the painful wounddried the black blood, and put strength in his spirit.And Glaucus knew it in his heart and rejoiced,that the great god had heard him quickly when he prayed.First he roused the leaders of the Lycians,going all around, to fight for Sarpedon;and then he went among the Trojans with long strides,to Polydamas son of Panthous and godlike Agenor,and he went to Aeneas and Hector of the bronze helmet,and standing near he spoke winged words:Hector, now you have completely forgotten your allies,who for your sake, far from their friends and native land,are wasting their lives; and you are not willing to defend them.Sarpedon lies there, leader of the shield-bearing Lycians,who guarded Lycia by his judgments and his own strength;and brazen Ares beat him down under Patroclus with the spear.But, friends, stand by, and be angry in your hearts,in case the Myrmidons take the armour and shame the corpse,angry for all the Danaans who have died,whom we killed by the swift ships with our spears.So he spoke, and grief seized the Trojans from head to foot,unbearable, not to be softened, since he was the stronghold of their city,even though he was a foreigner; for many peoples followed with him,and he himself was the best in battle;and they went straight at the Danaans eagerly; and their leaderwas Hector, angry for Sarpedon. And Patroclus son of Menoetiusroused the Achaeans with his shaggy heart;he spoke to the two Ajaxes first, who were eager themselves:Ajaxes, now let it be dear to you two to defend,such as you were before among men, or even better.There lies the man who first leapt over the Achaean wall,Sarpedon; but if we could take and shame him,and take the armour from his shoulders, and some of his comradeswho defend him we might beat down with pitiless bronze.So he spoke, and they themselves were eager to defend.And when on both sides they had strengthened their ranks,Trojans and Lycians and Myrmidons and Achaeans,they closed to fight around the dead corpse,shouting terribly; and the armour of the men rang loudly.And Zeus stretched a deadly night over the strong battle,so that deadly toil of battle might be around his dear son.And the Trojans first pushed back the bright-eyed Achaeans;for there was struck no worthless man among the Myrmidons,the son of great-hearted Agacles, godlike Epeigeus,who once ruled in well-peopled Budium;and then, after killing a noble cousin,he came as a suppliant to Peleus and to Thetis of the silver feet;and they sent him to follow with Achilles, breaker of men,to horse-rich Ilion, so that he might fight the Trojans.Him, as he laid hold of the corpse, shining Hector struckon the head with a stone; and it was all split in twoinside the sturdy helmet; and he fell face down on the corpse,and soul-destroying death poured over him.And grief came on Patroclus for his fallen comrade,and he rushed through the front ranks like a hawk,a swift one, that scatters jackdaws and starlings;so straight at the Lycians, Patroclus, master of horsemen,and at the Trojans you rushed, angry at heart for your comrade.And he hit Sthenelaus, the dear son of Ithaemenes,on the neck with a stone, and broke the tendons from it.And the front fighters gave way, and shining Hector too.As far as the throw of a long javelin goes,which a man lets fly in a trial or in a contestor in war, under soul-destroying enemies,that far the Trojans gave way, and the Achaeans pushed them back.And Glaucus first, leader of the shield-bearing Lycians,turned, and killed great-hearted Bathycles,the dear son of Chalcon, who, living in Hellas,stood out among the Myrmidons for wealth and riches.Him Glaucus wounded in the middle of the chest with his spear,turning suddenly, when he caught him as he chased him;and he fell with a thud; and thick grief seized the Achaeans,that a good man had fallen; and the Trojans greatly rejoiced,and they stood around him, coming in a crowd; and the Achaeansdid not forget their courage, but drove their strength straight at them.Then Meriones again took a helmeted Trojan,bold Laogonus, son of Onetor, who was a priest of Zeusof Ida, and was honoured like a god by the people.He struck him under the jaw and the ear; and quickly his lifewent from his limbs, and hateful darkness took him.And Aeneas cast his bronze spear at Meriones;for he hoped to hit him as he came on under his shield.But he, seeing it face on, avoided the bronze spear;for he bent forward, and the long spear behind himwas fixed in the ground, and the spear's butt was shakenand then mighty Ares let its fury go.And the point of Aeneas' spear, quivering along the ground,went on, since it had leapt in vain from his strong hand.And Aeneas was angry in his heart and spoke:Meriones, soon my spear would have stopped you right through,dancer though you are, if only I had hit you.And Meriones, famous for the spear, answered him:Aeneas, it is hard for you, mighty as you are,to quench the strength of any man who comes against youto defend himself; and you too are only a mortal.And if I hit you in the middle with the sharp bronze,soon, strong as you are and trusting in your hands,you would give glory to me, and your life to Hades famous for horses.So he spoke, and the brave son of Menoetius rebuked him:Meriones, why do you, a good man, say such things?O friend, the Trojans will not give way from the corpsefor insulting words; before that, the earth will hold someone.For the end of war is in our hands, and of words in counsel;so we must not spin out talk, but fight.So saying he led the way, and the godlike man followed with him.And as the din of wood-cutting men risesin the mountain glens, and the sound is heard far off,so from the broad-wayed earth arose their dinof bronze and hide and well-made shields,as they struck with swords and two-edged spears.Nor could even a knowing man any longer have recognised godlike Sarpedon,since with missiles and blood and dusthe was covered from head right down to the tips of his feet.And they kept crowding around the corpse, as when fliesbuzz in a farmyard around the brimming milk-pailsin the spring season, when the milk wets the vessels;so they crowded around the corpse, and Zeus neverturned his bright eyes away from the strong battle,but always looked at them and pondered in his heart,brooding deeply about the slaughter of Patroclus,whether now even him, in the strong battle,there over godlike Sarpedon, shining Hectorshould kill with the bronze, and take the armour from his shoulders,or whether he should still heap sheer toil on more men.And as he thought it over, it seemed better to himthat the good squire of Achilles, son of Peleus,should again push the Trojans and bronze-helmed Hectorback toward the city, and take the life from many.And into Hector first he put a coward's spirit;and climbing into his chariot he turned to flee, and called to the otherTrojans to flee; for he knew the sacred scales of Zeus.Then not even the mighty Lycians stayed, but fled,all of them, when they saw their king struck in his heartlying in the heap of the dead; for many had fallenover him, when the son of Cronus stretched the strong strife.And they took the armour from Sarpedon's shoulders,the gleaming bronze armour, which to the hollow shipsthe brave son of Menoetius gave his comrades to carry.And then Zeus the cloud-gatherer spoke to Apollo:Come now, dear Phoebus, cleanse the dark bloodfrom Sarpedon, going out from the missiles, and thencarry him far away and wash him in the river's streams,and anoint him with ambrosia, and put immortal clothes on him;and send him to be carried by swift escorts,Sleep and Death, twin brothers, who will quicklyset him in the rich land of broad Lycia,where his brothers and kinsmen will bury himwith a tomb and a pillar; for that is the honour of the dead.So he spoke, and Apollo did not disobey his father.And he went down from the Idaean mountains into the terrible conflict,and at once, lifting godlike Sarpedon out of the missiles,carrying him far away he washed him in the river's streams,and anointed him with ambrosia, and put immortal clothes on him;and he sent him to be carried by swift escorts,Sleep and Death, twin brothers, who quicklylaid him in the rich land of broad Lycia.And Patroclus, having given orders to his horses and Automedon,chased the Trojans and Lycians, and was greatly blinded,fool that he was; for if he had kept the word of the son of Peleus,he would surely have escaped the evil doom of black death.But the mind of Zeus is always stronger than the mind of men,who frightens even a brave man and takes away his victoryeasily, when he himself urges him to fight;he then also roused his spirit in his breast.There, whom did you strip first, and whom last,Patroclus, when the gods called you to death?Adrestus first, and Autonous and Echeclus,and Perimus Megades and Epistor and Melanippus,and then Elasus and Mulius and Pylartes;these he killed; and the others each thought of running away.Then the sons of the Achaeans would have taken high-gated Troyunder Patroclus' hands, for he raged ahead of them with his spear,if Phoebus Apollo had not stood on the well-built towerwith deadly thoughts for him, and helping the Trojans.Three times Patroclus climbed the corner of the high wall,and three times Apollo pushed him back,striking his shining shield with immortal hands.But when he rushed on a fourth time, like a god,shouting terribly he spoke winged words:Give way, heaven-born Patroclus; it is not your fateto sack the city of the proud Trojans under your spear,nor under Achilles, who is far better than you.So he spoke, and Patroclus drew back a long way,avoiding the anger of far-shooting Apollo.And Hector kept his single-hoofed horses at the Scaean gates;for he did not know whether to drive on and fight again in the rout,or to call the army to gather at the wall.As he was thinking this over, Phoebus Apollo came and stood by him,looking like a man in his prime and strong,Asius, who was uncle to Hector, tamer of horses,own brother of Hecabe, and son of Dymas,who lived in Phrygia by the streams of the Sangarius;looking like him, the son of Zeus, Apollo, spoke:Hector, why are you stopping from the battle? You should not.I wish I were as much better than you as I am lesser;then you would soon shrink hatefully from the war.But come, drive your strong-hoofed horses at Patroclus,in case you may kill him, and Apollo may give you glory.So saying the god went back into the toil of men,and shining Hector told the wise Cebrionesto drive the horses into battle. And Apollowent and plunged into the crowd, and threw a rout on the Argives,an evil one, and gave glory to the Trojans and to Hector.And Hector left the other Danaans alone and did not strip them;but he drove his strong-hoofed horses at Patroclus.And Patroclus on the other side jumped from his horses to the ground,holding his spear in his left hand; and with the other he grabbed a stone,a jagged marble, which his hand covered all around,and he threw it leaning into it, and did not shrink long from the man,and his weapon did not miss, but he hit Hector's charioteerCebriones, the bastard son of famous Priam,holding the horses' reins, on the forehead with the sharp stone.And the stone crushed both his brows together, and it did not holdat the bone, and his eyes fell to the ground in the dustin front of his feet; and he, like a diver,fell from the well-made chariot, and his spirit left his bones.And mocking him you spoke, Patroclus, horseman:Well now, truly a nimble man, how easily he tumbles.If he were somewhere in the fishy sea,this man would satisfy many by diving for oysters,jumping off a ship, even if it were stormy,as now on the plain he easily tumbles from the horses.So there are tumblers among the Trojans too.So saying he had gone at the hero Cebrioneswith the rush of a lion, who, ravaging farmyards,was struck on the chest, and his own courage destroyed him;so on Cebriones, Patroclus, you sprang eagerly.And Hector on the other side jumped from his horses to the ground.And the two fought around Cebriones like two lions,who on the mountain tops over a killed deerboth hungry, in great pride, fight together;so around Cebriones the two masters of the war-cry,Patroclus son of Menoetius and shining Hector,strove to cut each other's flesh with pitiless bronze.Hector, when he had grabbed the head, would not let go;and Patroclus held the foot on the other side; and the others,Trojans and Danaans, joined in strong battle.As the East Wind and the South Wind quarrel with each otherin the mountain glens to shake the deep forest,oak and ash and the long-barked cornel,which hurl their long-pointed branches at each otherwith a wondrous noise, and there is a crashing of them as they break;so Trojans and Achaeans, leaping on one another,kept killing, and neither side thought of deadly panic.And many sharp spears were fixed around Cebriones,and winged arrows leaping from the bowstrings,and many big stones battered the shieldsof those fighting around him; and he in a whirl of dustlay, great in his greatness, forgetful of his horsemanship.As long as the Sun had climbed to the middle of the sky,so long the weapons of both sides found their mark, and the people fell;but when the Sun turned toward the unyoking of oxen,then beyond their due the Achaeans were the stronger.They dragged the hero Cebriones out of the missiles,out of the Trojans' battle-cry, and took the armour from his shoulders,and Patroclus leapt in, meaning evil for the Trojans.Three times then he sprang at them, like swift Ares,shouting terribly, and three times he killed nine men.But when he rushed on a fourth time, like a god,then, Patroclus, the end of your life appeared;for Phoebus met you in the strong battle,terrible; and he did not see him coming through the rout,for he came at him wrapped in thick mist;and he stood behind him and struck his back and broad shoulderswith the flat of his hand, and his eyes spun round.And from his head Phoebus Apollo knocked the helmet;and it, rolling, rang under the horses' hooves,the four-horned ridged helmet, and the horse-hair crest was stainedwith blood and dust; but before it was not rightfor the horse-haired helmet to be stained with dust,but it protected the head and lovely brow of a godlike man,of Achilles; but then Zeus gave it to Hectorto wear on his head, and destruction was near him.And in his hands the long-shadowing spear was all broken,heavy, huge, strong, fitted with a point; and from his shouldersthe fringed shield with its strap fell to the ground.And lord Apollo, son of Zeus, loosed his corselet.And folly seized his mind, and his shining limbs were loosed,and he stood amazed; and behind him, in the back, with a sharp spear,between the shoulders, close at hand, a Dardanian man struck him,Euphorbus son of Panthous, who was the best of his agewith the spear and in horsemanship and in swift feet;for even then he had made twenty men get down from their horses,coming first with his chariot, learning war;who first threw his weapon at you, Patroclus, horseman,but did not beat you down; and he ran back again and mixed in the crowd,snatching the ashen spear from his flesh, nor did he waitfor Patroclus, unarmed as he was in the fight.And Patroclus, beaten down by the god's blow and the spear,drew back into the company of his comrades, avoiding death.And Hector, when he saw great-hearted Patroclusdrawing back, struck by the sharp bronze,came near him through the ranks, and wounded him with his spearin the lowest part of the belly, and drove the bronze right through;and he fell with a thud, and greatly grieved the host of the Achaeans.As when a lion overpowers a tireless boar in fight,who on the mountain tops fight in great prideover a small spring, and both want to drink;and the lion, panting hard, beats him down by his strength;so after he had killed many, the brave son of MenoetiusHector son of Priam took his life at close quarters with the spear,and boasting over him he spoke winged words:Patroclus, surely you said you would sack our city,and after taking the free day from the Trojan womenwould bring them in the ships to your dear native land,fool; but before that, Hector's swift horsesstretch out their feet to fight; and I myself with the spearstand out among the war-loving Trojans, keeping off from themthe day of necessity; but here the vultures will eat you.Wretch, not even noble Achilles helped you,who surely gave you many orders as he stayed behind when you went:Do not, Patroclus, master of horsemen, come back to meat the hollow ships before you have torn the bloody tunicof man-slaying Hector around his chest.So he surely spoke to you, and persuaded your foolish mind.And faintly you answered him, Patroclus, horseman:Now, Hector, boast greatly; for Zeus has given victory to you,and Apollo, the son of Cronus, who beat me downeasily; for they themselves took the armour from my shoulders.And if such men, even twenty, had met me,they would all have died there, beaten under my spear.But deadly fate and the son of Leto killed me,and among men Euphorbus; and you strip me as the third.And I will tell you something else, and put it in your heart:you yourself will not live long either, but alreadydeath and strong fate stand near you,to be beaten under the hands of blameless Achilles, son of Aeacus.So as he spoke, the end of death covered him;and his soul, flying from his limbs, had gone to Hades,lamenting its fate, leaving behind manhood and youth.And to him, dead though he was, shining Hector spoke:Patroclus, why do you prophesy sheer destruction for me?Who knows whether Achilles, the son of fair-haired Thetis,may not be struck first by my spear and lose his life?So speaking he drew the bronze spear from the wound,setting his heel on him, and pushed him on his back off the spear.And at once with his spear he went after Automedon,the godlike squire of the swift-footed son of Aeacus;for he longed to hit him; but his swift horses carried him away,the immortal ones, which the gods gave to Peleus as splendid gifts.