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despite their desire, but between the ships, and the river, and the
lofty wall, he rushed on them, and slew them, and avenged many a comrade
slain. There first he smote Pronoos with a shining spear, where the
shield left bare the breast, and loosened his limbs, and he fell with a
crash. Then Thestor the son of Enops he next assailed, as he sat
crouching in the polished chariot, for he was struck distraught, and the
reins flew from his hands. Him he drew near, and smote with the lance on
the right jaw, and clean pierced through his teeth. And Patroklos caught
hold of the spear and dragged him over the rim of the car, as when a man
sits on a jutting rock, and drags a sacred fish forth from the sea, with
line and glittering hook of bronze; so on the bright spear dragged he
Thestor gaping from the chariot, and cast him down on his face and life
left him as he fell. Next, as Euryalos came on, he smote him on the
midst of the head with a stone, and all his head was shattered within
the strong helmet, and prone on the earth he fell, and death that
slayeth the spirit overwhelmed him. Next Erymas, and Amphoteros, and
Epaltes and Tlepolemos son of Damastor, and Echios and Pyris, and Ipheus
and Euippos, and Polymelos son of Argeas, all these in turn he brought
low to the bounteous earth. But when Sarpedon beheld his comrades with
ungirdled doublets, subdued beneath the hands of Patroklos son of
Menoitios, he cried aloud, upbraiding the godlike Lykians: "Shame, ye
Lykians, whither do ye flee? Now be ye strong, for I will encounter this
man that I may know who he is that conquers here, and verily many evils
hath he wrought the Trojans, in that he hath loosened the knees of many
men and noble."

So spake he, and leaped with his arms from the chariot to the ground.
But Patroklos, on the other side, when he beheld him leaped from his
chariot. And they, like vultures of crooked talons and curved beaks,
that war with loud yells on some high cliff, even so they rushed with
cries against each other. And beholding then the son of Kronos of the
crooked counsels took pity on them, and he spake to Hera, his sister and
wife: "Ah woe is me for that it is fated that Sarpedon, the best-beloved
of men to me, shall be subdued under Patroklos son of Menoitios. And in
two ways my heart within my breast is divided, as I ponder whether I
should catch him up alive out of the tearful war, and set him down in
the rich land of Lykia, or whether I should now subdue him beneath the
hands of the son of Menoitios."

Then the ox-eyed lady Hera made answer to him: "Most dread son of
Kronos, what word is this thou hast spoken? A mortal man long doomed to
fate dost thou desire to deliver again from death of evil name? Work thy
will, but all we other gods will in no wise praise thee. And another
thing I will tell thee, and do thou lay it up in thy heart; if thou dost
send Sarpedon living to his own house, consider lest thereon some other
god likewise desire to send his own dear son away out of the strong
battle. For round the great citadel of Priam war many sons of the
Immortals, and among the Immortals wilt thou send terrible wrath. But if
he be dear to thee, and thy heart mourns for him, truly then suffer him
to be subdued in the strong battle beneath the hands of Patroklos son of
Menoitios, but when his soul and life leave that warrior, send Death and
sweet Sleep to bear him, even till they come to the land of wide Lykia,
there will his kindred and friends bury him, with a barrow and a pillar,
for this is the due of the dead."

So spake she, nor did the father of gods and men disregard her. But he
shed bloody raindrops on the earth, honouring his dear son, that
Patroklos was about to slay in the deep-soiled land of Troia, far off
from his own country. Now when they were come near each other in onset,
there verily did Patroklos smite the renowned Thrasymelos, the good
squire of the prince Sarpedon, on the lower part of the belly, and
loosened his limbs. But Sarpedon missed him with his shining javelin, as
he in turn rushed on, but wounded the horse Pedasos on the right
shoulder with the spear, and he shrieked as he breathed his life away,
and fell crying in the dust, and his spirit fled from him. But the other
twain reared this way and that, and the yoke creaked, and the reins were
confused on them, when their trace-horse lay in the dust. But thereof
did Automedon, the spearman renowned, find a remedy, and drawing his
long-edged sword from his stout thigh, he leaped forth, and cut adrift
the horse, with no delay, and the pair righted themselves, and strained
in the reins, and they met again in life-devouring war.

Then again Sarpedon missed with his shining dart, and the point of the
spear flew over the left shoulder of Patroklos and smote him not, but he
in turn arose with the bronze, and his javelin flew not vainly from his
hand, but struck Sarpedon even where the midriff clasps the beating
heart. And he fell as falls an oak, or a silver poplar, or a slim pine
tree, that on the hills the shipwrights fell with whetted axes, to be
timber for ship-building; even so before the horses and chariot he lay
at length, moaning aloud, and clutching at the bloody dust. And as when
a lion hath fallen on a herd, and slain a bull, tawny and high of heart,
among the kine of trailing gait, and he perishes groaning beneath the
claws of the lion, even so under Patroklos did the leader of the Lykian
shieldmen rage, even in death, and he called to his dear comrade: "Dear
Glaukos, warrior among warlike men, now most doth it behove thee to be a
spearman, and a hardy fighter: now let baneful war be dear to thee, if
indeed thou art a man of might. First fare all about and urge on the
heroes that be leaders of the Lykians, to fight for Sarpedon, and
thereafter thyself do battle for me with the sword. For to thee even in
time to come shall I be shame and disgrace for ever, all thy days, if
the Achaians strip me of mine armour, fallen in the gathering of the
ships. Nay, hold out manfully, and spur on all the host."

Even as he spake thus, the end of death veiled over his eyes and his
nostrils, but Patroklos, setting foot on his breast drew the spear out
of his flesh, and the midriff followed with the spear, so that he drew
forth together the spear point, and the soul of Sarpedon; and the
Myrmidons held there his panting steeds, eager to fly afar, since the
chariot was reft of its lords.

Then dread sorrow came on Glaukos, when he heard the voice of Sarpedon,
and his heart was stirred, that he availed not to succour him. And with
his hand he caught and held his arm, for the wound galled him, the wound
of the arrow wherewith, as he pressed on towards the lofty wall, Teukros
had smitten him, warding off destruction from his fellows. Then in
prayer spake Glaukos to far-darting Apollo: "Hear, O Prince that art
somewhere in the rich land of Lykia, or in Troia, for thou canst listen
everywhere to the man that is in need, as even now need cometh upon me.
For I have this stark wound, and mine arm is thoroughly pierced with
sharp pains, nor can my blood be stanched, and by the wound is my
shoulder burdened, and I cannot hold my spear firm, nor go and fight
against the enemy. And the best of men has perished, Sarpedon, the son
of Zeus, and he succours not even his own child. But do thou, O Prince,
heal me this stark wound, and lull my pains, and give me strength, that
I may call on my Lykian kinsmen, and spur them to the war, and myself
may fight about the dead man fallen."

So spake he in his prayer, and Phoebus Apollo heard him. Straightway he
made his pains to cease, and in the grievous wound stanched the black
blood, and put courage into his heart. And Glaukos knew it within him,
and was glad, for that the great god speedily heard his prayer. First
went he all about and urged on them that were leaders of the Lykians to
fight around Sarpedon, and thereafter he went with long strides among
the Trojans, to Polydamas son of Panthoos and noble Agenor, and he went
after Aineias, and Hector of the helm of bronze, and standing by them
spake winged words: "Hector, now surely art thou utterly forgetful of
the allies, that for thy sake, far from their friends and their own
country, breathe their lives away! but thou carest not to aid them!
Sarpedon lies low, the leader of the Lykian shieldmen, he that defended
Lykia by his dooms and his might, yea him hath mailed Ares subdued
beneath the spear of Patroklos. But, friends, stand by him, and be angry
in your hearts lest the Myrmidons strip him of his harness, and
dishonour the dead, in wrath for the sake of the Danaans, even them that
perished, whom we slew with spears by the swift ships."

So spake he, and sorrow seized the Trojans utterly, ungovernable and not
to be borne; for Sarpedon was ever the stay of their city, all a
stranger as he was, for many people followed with him, and himself the
best warrior of them all. Then they made straight for the Danaans
eagerly, and Hector led them, being wroth for Sarpedon's sake. But the
fierce heart of Patrokloa son of Menoitios urged on the Achaians. And he
spake first to the twain Aiantes that themselves were right eager:
"Aiantes, now let defence be your desire, and be such as afore ye were
among men, or even braver yet. That man lies low who first leaped on to
the wall of the Achaians, even Sarpedon. Nay, let us strive to take him,
and work his body shame, and strip the harness from his shoulders, and
many a one of his comrades fighting for his sake let us subdue with the
pitiless bronze."

So spake he, and they themselves were eager in defence. So on both
sides they strengthened the companies, Trojans and Lykians, Myrmidons
and Achaians, and they joined battle to fight around the dead man
fallen; terribly they shouted, and loud rang the harness of men. And as
the din ariseth of woodcutters in the glades of a mountain, and the
sound thereof is heard far away, so rose the din of them from the
wide-wayed earth, the noise of bronze and of well-tanned bulls' hides
smitten with swords and double-pointed spears. And now not even a
clear-sighted man could any longer have known noble Sarpedon, for with
darts and blood and dust was he covered wholly from head to foot. And
ever men thronged about the dead, as in a steading flies buzz around the
full milk-pails, in the season of spring, when the milk drenches the
bowls, even so thronged they about the dead. Nor ever did Zeus turn from
the strong fight his shining eyes, but ever looked down on them, and
much in his heart he debated of the slaying of Patroklos, whether there
and then above divine Sarpedon glorious Hector should slay him likewise
in strong battle with the sword, and strip his harness from his
shoulders, or whether to more men yet he should deal sheer labour of
war. And thus to him as he pondered it seemed the better way, that the
gallant squire of Achilles, Peleus' son, should straightway drive the
Trojans and Hector of the helm of bronze towards the city, and should
rob many of their life. And in Hector first he put a weakling heart, and
leaping into his car Hector turned in flight, and cried on the rest of
the Trojans to flee, for he knew the turning of the sacred scales of
Zeus. Thereon neither did the strong Lykians abide, but fled all in
fear, when they beheld their king stricken to the heart, lying in the
company of the dead, for many had fallen above him, when Kronion made
fierce the fight. Then the others stripped from the shoulders of
Sarpedon his shining arms of bronze, and these the strong son of
Menoitios gave to his comrades to bear to the hollow ships. Then Zeus
that gathereth the clouds spake to Apollo: "Prithee, dear Phoebus, go
take Sarpedon out of range of darts, and cleanse the black blood from
him, and thereafter bear him far away, and bathe him in the streams of
the river, and anoint him with ambrosia, and clothe him in garments that
wax not old, and send him to be wafted by fleet convoy, by the twin
brethren Sleep and Death, that quickly will set him in the rich land of
wide Lykia. There will his kinsmen and clansmen give him burial, with
barrow and pillar, for such is the due of the dead."

So spake he, nor was Apollo disobedient to his father. He went down the
hills of Ida to the dread battle din, and straight way bore goodly
Sarpedon out of the darts, and carried him far away and bathed him in
the streams of the river, and anointed him with ambrosia, and clad him
in garments that wax not old, and sent him to be wafted by fleet convoy,
the twin brethren Sleep and Death, that swiftly set him down in the rich
land of wide Lykia. But Patroklos cried to his horses and Automedon, and
after the Trojans and Lykians went he, and so was blindly forgetful, in
his witlessness, for if he had kept the saying of the son of Peleus,
verily he should have escaped the evil fate of black death. But ever is
the wit of Zeus stronger than the wit of men, so now he roused the
spirit of Patroklos in his breast. There whom first, whom last didst
thou slay, Patroklos, when the gods called thee deathward? Adrestos
first, and Autonoos, and Echeklos, and Perimos, son of Megas, and
Epistor, and Melanippos, and thereafter Elasos, and Moulios, and
Pylartes; these he slew, but the others were each man of them fain of
flight. Then would the sons of the Achaians have taken high-gated Troy,
by the hands of Patroklos, for around and before him he raged with the
spear, but that Phoebus Apollo stood on the well-builded wall, with
baneful thoughts towards Patroklos, and succouring the Trojans. Thrice
clomb Patroklos on the corner of the lofty wall, and thrice did Apollo
force him back and smote the shining shield with his immortal hands. But
when for the fourth time he came on like a god, then cried far-darting
Apollo terribly, and spake winged words: "Give back, Patroklos of the
seed of Zeus! Not beneath thy spear is it fated that the city of the
valiant Trojans shall fall, nay nor beneath Achilles, a man far better
than thou."

So spake he, and Patroklos retreated far back, avoiding the wrath of
far-darting Apollo. But Hector within the Skaian gates was restraining
his whole-hooved horses, pondering whether he should drive again into
the din and fight, or should call unto the host to gather to the wall.
While thus he was thinking, Phoebus Apollo stood by him in the guise of
a young man and a strong, Asios, who was the mother's brother of
horse-taming Hector, being own brother of Hekabe, and son of Dymas, who
dwelt in Phrygia, on the streams of Sangarios. In his guise spake
Apollo, son of Zeus, to Hector: "Hector, wherefore dost thou cease from
fight? It doth not behove thee. Would that I were as much stronger than
thou as I am weaker, thereon quickly shouldst thou stand aloof from war
to thy hurt. But come, turn against Patroklos thy strong-hooved horses,
if perchance thou mayst slay him, and Apollo give thee glory."

So spake the god, and went back again into the moil of men. But renowned
Hector bade wise-hearted Kebriones to lash his horses into the war. Then
Apollo went and passed into the press, and sent a dread panic among the
Argives, but to the Trojans and Hector gave he renown. And Hector let
the other Argives be, and slew none of them, but against Patroklos he
turned his strong-hooved horses, and Patroklos on the other side leaped
from his chariot to the ground, with a spear in his left hand, and in
his other hand grasped a shining jagged stone, that his hand covered.
Firmly he planted himself and hurled it, nor long did he shrink from his
foe, nor was his cast in vain, but he struck Kebriones the charioteer of
Hector, the bastard son of renowned Priam, on the brow with the sharp
stone, as he held the reins of the horses. Both his brows the stone
drave together, and his bone held not, but his eyes fell to the ground
in the dust, there, in front of his feet. Then he, like a diver, fell
from the well-wrought car, and his spirit left his bones. Then taunting
him didst thou address him, knightly Patroklos: "Out on it, how nimble a
man, how lightly he diveth! Yea, if perchance he were on the teeming
deep, this man would satisfy many by seeking for oysters, leaping from
the ship, even if it were stormy weather, so lightly now he diveth from
the chariot into the plain. Verily among the Trojans too there be diving
men."

So speaking he set on the hero Kebriones with the rush of a lion, that
while wasting the cattle-pens is smitten in the breast, and his own
valour is his bane, even so against Kebriones, Patroklos, didst thou
leap furiously. But Hector, on the other side, leaped from his chariot
to the ground. And these twain strove for Kebriones like lions, that on
the mountain peaks fight, both hungering, both high of heart, for a
slain hind. Even so for Kebriones' sake these two masters of the
war-cry, Patroklos son of Menoitios, and renowned Hector, were eager
each to hew the other's flesh with the ruthless bronze.

Hector then seized him by the head, and slackened not hold, while
Patroklos on the other side grasped him by the foot, and thereon the
others, Trojans and Danaans, joined strong battle. And as the East wind
and the South contend with one another in shaking a deep wood in the
dells of a mountain, shaking beech, and ash, and smooth-barked cornel
tree, that clash against each other their long boughs with marvellous
din, and a noise of branches broken, so the Trojans and Achaians were
leaping on each other and slaying, nor had either side any thought of
ruinous flight. And many sharp darts were fixed around Kebriones, and
winged arrows leaping from the bow-string, and many mighty stones smote
the shields of them that fought around him. But he in the whirl of dust
lay mighty and mightily fallen, forgetful of his chivalry.

Now while the sun was going about mid-heaven, so long the darts smote
either side, and the host fell, but when the sun turned to the time of
the loosing of oxen, lo, then beyond their doom the Achaians proved the
better. The hero Kebriones drew they forth from the darts, out of the
tumult of the Trojans, and stripped the harness from his shoulders, and
with ill design against the Trojans, Patroklos rushed upon them. Three
times then rushed he on, peer of swift Ares, shouting terribly, and
thrice he slew nine men. But when the fourth time he sped on like a god,
thereon to thee, Patroklos, did the end of life appear, for Phoebus met
thee in the strong battle, in dreadful wise. And Patroklos was not ware
of him coming through the press, for hidden in thick mist did he meet
him, and stood behind him, and smote his back and broad shoulders with a
down-stroke of his hand, and his eyes were dazed. And from his head
Phoebus Apollo smote the helmet that rolled rattling away with a din
beneath the hooves of the horses, the helm with upright socket, and the
crests were defiled with blood and dust. And all the long-shadowed spear
was shattered in the hands of Patroklos, the spear great and heavy and
strong, and sharp, while from his shoulders the tasselled shield with
the baldric fell to the ground.

And the prince Apollo, son of Zeus, loosed his corslet, and blindness
seized his heart and his shining limbs were unstrung, and he stood in
amaze, and at close quarters from behind a Dardanian smote him on the
back, between the shoulders, with a sharp spear, even Euphorbos, son of
Panthoos, who excelled them of his age in casting the spear, and in
horsemanship, and in speed of foot. Even thus, verily, had he cast down
twenty men from their chariots, though then first had he come with his
car to learn the lesson of war. He it was that first smote a dart into
thee, knightly Patroklos, nor overcame thee, but ran back again and
mingled with the throng, first drawing forth from the flesh his ashen
spear, nor did he abide the onset of Patroklos, unarmed as he was, in
the strife. But Patroklos, being overcome by the stroke of the god, and
by the spear, gave ground, and retreated to the host of his comrades,
avoiding Fate. But Hector, when he beheld great-hearted Patroklos give
ground, being smitten with the keen bronze, came nigh unto him through
the ranks, and wounded him with a spear, in the lowermost part of the
belly, and drave the bronze clean through. And he fell with a crash, and
sorely grieved the host of Achaians. And as when a lion hath overcome in
battle an untiring boar, they twain fighting with high heart on the
crests of a hill, about a little well, and both are desirous to drink,
and the lion hath by force overcome the boar that draweth difficult
breath; so after that he had slain many did Hector son of Priam take the
life away from the strong son of Menoitios, smiting him at close
quarters with the spear; and boasting over him he spake winged words:
"Patroklos, surely thou saidst that thou wouldst sack my town, and from
Trojan women take away the day of freedom, and bring them in ships to
thine own dear country: fool! nay, in front of these were the swift
horses of Hector straining their speed for the fight; and myself in
wielding the spear excel among the war-loving Trojans, even I who ward
from them the day of destiny: but thee shall vultures here devour. Ah,
wretch, surely Achilles for all his valour, availed thee not, who
straitly charged thee as thou camest, he abiding there, saying, 'Come
not to me, Patroklos lord of steeds, to the hollow ships, till thou hast
torn the gory doublet of man-slaying Hector about his breast;' so,
surely, he spake to thee, and persuaded the wits of thee in thy
witlessness."

Then faintly didst thou answer him, knightly Patroklos: "Boast greatly,
as now, Hector, for to thee have Zeus, son of Kronos, and Apollo given
the victory, who lightly have subdued me; for themselves stripped my
harness from my shoulders. But if twenty such as thou had encountered
me, here had they all perished, subdued beneath my spear. But me have
ruinous Fate and the son of Leto slain, and of men Euphorbos, but thou
art the third in my slaying. But another thing will I tell thee, and do
thou lay it up in thy heart: verily thou thyself art not long to live,
but already doth Death stand hard by thee, and strong Fate, that thou
art to be subdued by the hands of noble Achilles, of the seed of
Aiakos."

Even as so he spake the end of death overshadowed him. And his soul,
fleeting from his limbs, went down to the house of Hades, wailing its
own doom, leaving manhood and youth.

Then renowned Hector spake to him even in his death: "Patroklos,
wherefore to me dolt thou prophesy sheer destruction? who knows but that
Achilles, the child of fair-tressed Thetis, will first be smitten by my
spear, and lose his life?"

So spake he, and drew the spear of bronze from the wound, setting his
foot on the dead, and cast him off on his back from the spear. And
straightway with the spear he went after Automedon, the godlike squire
of the swift-footed Aiakides, for he was eager to smite him; but his
swift-footed immortal horses bare him out of the battle, horses that the
gods gave to Peleus, a splendid gift.



BOOK XVII.

Of the battle around the body of Patroklos.

But Atreus' son, Menelaos dear to Ares, was not unaware of the slaying
of Patroklos by the Trojans in the fray. He went up through the front of
the fight harnessed in flashing bronze, and strode over the body as
above a first-born calf standeth lowing its mother. Thus above Patroklos
strode fair-haired Menelaos, and before him held his spear and the
circle of his shield, eager to slay whoever should encounter him. Then
was Panthoos' son of the stout ashen spear not heedless of noble
Patroklos as he lay, and he smote on the circle of the shield of
Menelaos, but the bronze spear brake it not, but the point was bent back
in the stubborn shield. And Menelaos Atreus' son in his turn made at him
with his bronze spear, having prayed unto father Zeus, and as he gave
back pierced the nether part of his throat, and threw his weight into
the stroke, following his heavy hand; and sheer through the tender neck
went the point of the spear. And he fell with a crash, and his armour
rang upon him. In blood was his hair drenched that was like unto the
hair of the Graces, and his tresses closely knit with bands of silver
and gold.

Then easily would the son of Atreus have borne off the noble spoils of
Panthoos' son, had not Phoebus Apollo grudged it to him, and aroused
against him Hector peer of swift Ares, putting on the semblance of a
man, of Mentes chief of the Kikones. And he spake aloud to him winged
words: "Hector, now art thou hasting after things unattainable, even the