by Homer
As he spoke, the end that is death enveloped him. Life left his limbs and took wing for the house of Hades, bewailing its lot and the youth and the manhood it had left behind. But glorious Hector spoke to him again, though he was gone:
‘Patroclus, why prophesy an early end for me? Who knows – (860) Achilles, son of lovely-haired Thetis, may still get there first, dispatched with a blow from my spear.’
With these words Hector put his foot on Patroclus to withdraw his bronze spear from the wound, and trod the body off it to lie face upwards on the ground. Then without a pause he went after Automedon, Achilles’ godlike attendant, with his spear. He was eager to hit him. But Automedon was carried out of harm’s way by his speedy immortal horses, the splendid gift that Peleus had received from the gods.
17
THE STRUGGLE OVER PATROCLUS
1–69: Menelaus moves in to protect Patroclus’ body and kills Euphorbus.
70–401: Hector leads a Trojan advance, but Ajax drives him off. Glaucus rounds on Hector, who promptly puts on Achilles’ armour. ZEUS pities his brief triumph. A full-scale fight develops over Patroclus’ body, and a mist descends.
401–542: Achilles has heard nothing of Patroclus’ death, but his horses weep for Patroclus. ZEUS pities them and foretells Hector will not capture them. More fighting.
543–655: ATHENE encourages Menelaus, who drags Patroclus’ body back to the Greek side. ZEU S shakes his aegis, and the Greeks retreat. ZEUS lifts the mist.
656–761: Antilochus runs to give Achilles the bad news. Menelaus and Meriones lift Patroclus’ body, and the retreat continues.
Warlike Menelaus son of Atreus did not fail to notice that Patroclus had been overcome in battle by the Trojans. He advanced through the front ranks, bronze armour glittering, and stood over Patroclus’ body as a mother-cow stands protectively over the first calf she has brought into the world. So auburn-haired Menelaus stood over Patroclus and guarded the body with his spear and round shield, determined to kill anyone who advanced against him.
But Panthous’ son, Euphorbus of the ash spear, had not lost (10) interest in the body of matchless Patroclus. Coming close up to it, he said to Menelaus: ‘Olympian-born Menelaus son of Atreus, leader of men, get back; leave the dead man and don’t touch his bloodstained armour. I was the first of the Trojans and their famous allies to hit Patroclus with a spear in the heat of battle. So allow me to win heroic glory in Trojan eyes, or I will hit you and take your precious life.’
(20) Furious, auburn-haired Menelaus said:
Menelaus taunts and kills Euphorbus
’Father Zeus, it is no good thing to boast so arrogantly. The courage of the panther, the lion and the murderous wild boar, the most high-spirited and defiant beast of all, is, it seems, nothing to compare with the pride of these sons of Panthous with their famous ash spears! Yet your brother, mighty Hyperenor, did not long survive to enjoy the delights of youth when he insulted and stood up to me in battle. He said I was the most contemptible of the Greek men-at-arms. But I seem to remember that it was not on his own feet that he went home to delight his loving wife and cherished parents. And I’ll cut you down to size as I did (30) him, if you take me on. Get back now, join the rabble, and don’t stand up to me, or you will come to grief. Only a fool is wise after the event.’
So he spoke but did not persuade him. Euphorbus replied and said:
‘This very day, Olympian-born Menelaus, you are going to pay the price for my brother, whom you killed and boast about, and whose wife you left a widow in her new bridal chamber. You caused his parents untold tears and misery; yet I could still wipe away the tears of that unhappy pair if I brought back your (40) head and armour and put them in the hands of Panthous and his wife godlike Phrontis. But our business will not long remain unsettled or uncontested – victory or defeat!’
With these words he stabbed Menelaus’ round shield. But the spear did not break through and the tip was bent back by the stout shield. Then Menelaus son of Atreus attacked with his spear and a prayer to Father Zeus. As Euphorbus drew back, Menelaus stabbed him in the base of the throat and threw the whole weight of his body into it, keeping a firm grip on the spear. The point went clean through his soft neck. He thudded (50) to the ground, and his armour clattered about him. His hair, lovely as the Graces’, and the curls he used to bind with gold and silver spirals were all drenched with blood. Like the shoot of an olive-tree that a gardener nurtures in a place of its own, where there is enough water for it to drink and grow fine and healthy; the breezes of all the winds shake it, and it bursts into white blossom, but suddenly there is a great gust of wind which uproots it from its trench and lays it flat on the ground – such was Panthous’ son, Euphorbus of the ash spear, when Menelaus (60) killed him and stripped him of his armour.
Disguised APOLLO stirs Hector
As a mountain lion which has confidence in its own strength pounces on the finest heifer in a grazing herd; it seizes her, breaks her neck with its powerful jaws and then, tearing at her, devours her blood and entrails; all round it the dogs and herdsmen create a terrific din, but keep their distance; they have no desire to close in, and are green with fear of it – so not a single Trojan had the (70) daring to come near illustrious Menelaus. Then Menelaus would have found it easy to take Euphorbus’ splendid armour if Phoebus Apollo had not grudged him it and sent Hector equal of Ares to attack him. Apollo went to Hector in the disguise of a man called Mentes, a leader of the Cicones, and spoke winged words:
‘Hector, at the moment you are running around in pursuit of the unattainable – the horses of warlike Achilles, which are hard to master and difficult to drive, at any rate for a mere man, or anyone but Achilles, whose mother is a goddess. Meanwhile (80) warlike Menelaus is standing over Patroclus’ body and has killed the best man in Troy: Euphorbus, son of Panthous, will never fight again.’
With these words the god went back into the heart of the battle, and Hector’s heart was wrung with grief. But presently he peered across the ranks and saw the pair of them, Menelaus removing the impressive arms and Euphorbus lying on the ground, the blood pouring from the stab-wound. Yelling shrilly, Hector advanced through the front ranks, his bronze armour glittering, looking like the inextinguishable flames in the furnace of the blacksmith god Hephaestus. Menelaus did not fail to (90) recognize his war-cry. Disturbed he reflected on the situation: ‘What shall I do? If I abandon these fine arms and the body of Patroclus, who fell here fighting to avenge wrongs done to me, any Greek who sees me will rightly be angry. But if, to save face, I fight with Hector and the Trojans single-handed, I am likely to be cut off and surrounded, since Hector of the flashing helmet is bringing all his Trojans with him.
‘But why talk to myself like this ? When a man decides, without the good will of the gods, to fight another who enjoys their (100) favour, he has disaster coming to him. Surely then, no Greek is going to be angry to see me giving way to Hector, who is fighting with the gods on his side. If only I knew where Ajax, master of the battle-cry, was, the pair of us could call up our old will to fight, even with the god against us, and go to see if we could save the body for Achilles son of Peleus. That would make the best of a bad situation.’
While these thoughts raced through his mind, the Trojan ranks bore down on him with Hector at their head. Abandoning Patroclus’ body, Menelaus turned and retreated, but with many a backward look, like a bearded lion being chased from the fold (110) with spears and shouts by the shepherds and their dogs; he feels the chill of fear in his brave heart and much against his will abandons the farmyard – so Menelaus withdrew from Patroclus’ body. But he turned and stood his ground when he reached his own contingent, looking everywhere for great Ajax son of Telamon. He saw him presently, out on the left flank, exhorting and urging on his men to fight, since Phoebus Apollo had filled them with an unnatural panic. Menelaus ran up to him at once and said:
(120) ‘Ajax, over here, old friend! Patroclus is dead. Hurry! We might at least save the
body for Achilles. It’s been stripped -Hector of the flashing helmet has taken his armour.’
Hector takes Patroclus’ armour
So he spoke, and his words went straight to warlike Ajax’s heart. He and auburn-haired Menelaus set off through the front lines.
Hector was beginning to haul away the body. He had removed Patroclus’ famous armour and now he wanted to behead him with his sharp sword, drag off the trunk and give it to the dogs of Troy. But when Ajax came up with his towerlike shield, (130) Hector retreated into his own contingent and leapt on to his chariot. He gave the beautiful armour to some Trojans to take back to Ilium, where it would make his reputation. Meanwhile Ajax covered Patroclus with his broad shield and stood at bay like a lioness over its cubs: leading them through the forest, it is confronted by huntsmen; breathing defiance, it knits its eyebrows together in a frown that covers its eyes – so Ajax planted himself by Patroclus. Warlike Menelaus son of Atreus took his stand back to back with him, anguish growing in his heart.
(140) Glaucus son of Hippolochus, leader of the Lycian forces, looked blackly at Hector and reproached him sharply:
Glaucus rounds on Hector
’Hector, with your wonderful looks, you’re useless in battle. Your heroic reputation hides a coward after all. Ask yourself how you are going to save the town and its people with nobody to help you but the native Trojans; since none of the Lycians will be going out to fight against the Greeks for Ilium. All along, they have been given no reward for battling relentlessly with the enemy day in, day out. What hopes has a lesser man of being rescued by you in a tight (150) corner when you have callously left Sarpedon, your guest and comrade-in-arms, like carrion in Greek hands? You and your people owed much to him while he was alive; yet you cannot bring yourself to save him from the dogs.
‘So now, if I have any influence with the Lycians, we go home. And that will mean the end for Troy. Why, if the Trojans had any real courage, the fearless spirit that enters into men who are fighting their enemies tooth and nail in defence of their country, we should soon drag Patroclus into Ilium. And if that (160) man’s dead body could be brought out of the battle and into Priam’s great town, the Greeks would at once return Sarpedon’s beautiful armour, and we could bring Sarpedon’s body back into Ilium. Such is the man to whom Patroclus was attendant, the best warrior in the Greek camp, with the best men at close combat under his command.
‘But you could not bring yourself, with the enemy war-cry ringing in your ears, to face great-hearted Ajax, to look him in the eye and fight it out with him – because he is the better man.’
Looking blackly at him Hector of the flashing helmet replied:
(170) ’Glaucus, what’s made a man like you talk so insolently? I cannot believe it. I always took you for the wisest man in the whole of fertile Lycia. As it is, you have destroyed my faith in your judgement by talking like this and suggesting I dared not stand up to awe-inspiring Ajax. Believe me, fighting and the noise of chariots do not frighten me. But the will of Zeus who drives the storm-cloud always prevails. He can easily make a brave man run away and lose a battle, but at another time that very same god will urge him on to fight.
‘But come here, my friend, and stand by my side, and see (180) what I can do; see whether you are right and I shall prove a coward all day long, or whether I can stop some of these Greeks, determined as they are, from fighting any longer over Patroclus’ body.’
With these words he called out to the Trojans in a loud voice:
‘Trojans, Lycians and you Dardanians that like your fighting hand to hand, be men, my comrades, and call up that fighting spirit of yours! I am going to put on the armour of matchless Achilles, the fine armour I took from mighty Patroclus when I killed him.’
ZEUS pities Hector in Achilles’ armour
With these words Hector of the flashing helmet left the battlefield and ran after his men who were carrying the famous (190) armour of Achilles son of Peleus to the town. He soon caught them up, since they had not gone far and he ran fast. Then he changed his equipment, standing far from the battlefield with all its tears, telling his war-loving Trojans to take his own arms to sacred Ilium and putting on the imperishable armour of Achilles which the Sky-gods had given to his father Peleus. Peleus, when he grew old, had passed it on to his son. But the son did not grow old in his father’s armour.
When from afar Zeus who marshals the clouds saw Hector (200) equipping himself in the arms of godlike Achilles, he shook his head and said to himself:
‘Unhappy man! Little knowing how close you are to death, you are putting on the imperishable armour of a mighty man of war, before whom all others tremble. And it was you that killed his comrade, brave and gentle Patroclus, and improperly stripped the armour from his head and shoulders. Well, for the moment at any rate I grant you supremacy. But you must pay for it. There will be no homecoming for you from battle, and your wife Andromache will never take the famous armour of Achilles from your hands.’
The son of Cronus spoke and nodded his sable brows in confirmation.
(210) The armour fitted Hector’s body well, the savage spirit of the terrible War-god now entered him and power and fresh vigour filled his limbs. Uttering his piercing war-cry, he went in search of his renowned allies and presented himself before all of them, resplendent in the armour of great-hearted Achilles. To rouse their spirits he went up and spoke to each of them in turn: to Mesthles and Glaucus; to Medon and Thersilochus; to Asteropaeus, Deisenor and Hippothous; to Phorcys and Chromis and Ennomus the prophet. Urging them on, he spoke winged words:
Hector and Menelaus rouse their men
(220) ‘Hear me, you countless tribes of allies that live round about. I neither sought nor needed mere numbers when I summoned each of you here from your own towns. What I wanted was men who would be fully committed to fighting the war-loving Greeks in defence of the women and little children of Troy. That is why I impoverish my own people by demanding they supply you with gifts and provisions and so keep your courage high.
‘Turn, then, and straight at the enemy, every one of you, to live or die! That is the intimacy of battle. To the man who forces (230) Ajax back and brings Patroclus, dead though he is, into the Trojan lines, I will give half the spoils, keeping the other half myself, so that he will share the glory equally with me.’
So he spoke, and they lifted their spears and charged at the Greeks with full force, filled with high hopes of retrieving the body from Ajax son of Telamon. The innocents – Ajax was going to take many a life over Patroclus’ body. Then Ajax spoke to Menelaus, master of the battle-cry:
‘My old friend, Olympian-born Menelaus, I’m beginning to think we’ll never get safely back from this fight. I am not only (240) very afraid Patroclus’ body will soon be glutting the Trojan dogs and birds, but also of the perilous situation we’ll be facing, with a cloud of war called Hector swirling up on all sides. Death is staring us in the face. Quick! Call the Greek chieftains! Somebody might hear.’
So he spoke, and Menelaus, master of the battle-cry, complied and sent his voice ringing out to the whole Greek army:
‘Friends, rulers and leaders of the Greeks! All you who drink (250) your wine at the public cost by the side of Agamemnon and Menelaus; who share in the command and derive your honour and glory from Zeus; it is impossible for me to pick out every commander – the battle’s flaring up everywhere. Here, every one of you, without being named! Think of the disgrace, that the dogs of Ilium should have Patroclus to toy with!’
So he spoke, and swift Ajax son of Oïleus heard every word of this and was the first to come running up to Menelaus through the mayhem. He was followed by Idomeneus and Idomeneus’ attendant Meriones, equal of the murderous War- (260) god Ares. As for the rest that came behind to reinforce the Greek line, where is the man who could remember all their names?
The Trojans advanced in a mass, and Hector led them. As a great wave roars against the current flowing out of the mouth of a sky-fed river, and the sea-
shore’s headlands on either side boom thunderously as the sea washes back – with such a roar did the Trojans advance. But united in their resolution, the Greeks faced them, making a fence of their bronze shields round Patroclus. Moreover Zeus son of Cronus spread a thick mist (270) about their gleaming helmets. He had no quarrel with Patroclus while he was alive and serving as Achilles’ attendant, and loathed the thought of his becoming carrion for the enemy dogs of Troy. So now he roused Patroclus’ comrades-in-arms to fight in his defence.
At first the Trojans flung back the dark-eyed Greeks, who abandoned the body and gave ground before them. Even so, the proud Trojans did not succeed in killing any of them with their spears, for all their efforts. But the Trojans did start dragging off the body. The Greeks, however, were not going to be separated from it for long. They were soon rallied by Ajax, who, next (280) to matchless Achilles, was the best-looking and best fighter of all the Greeks. He charged through the front line, fierce as a wild boar in the mountains who easily scatters the hounds and lively young huntsmen as it turns at bay in the glades. So glorious Ajax charged and easily scattered the ranks of Trojans, who had gathered round Patroclus and made up their minds that they were going to win the glory and drag his body into the city.
Hippothous, Schedius, Phorcys killed
(290) Hippothous, glorious son of Pelasgian Lethus, had tied his sword-belt round the tendons of Patroclus’ ankle and was hauling him by the foot through the thick of the action. He hoped to do Hector and the Trojans a favour. But he did himself a bad one, since he soon ran into trouble from which no one, however willing, could save him. Ajax rushed up to him through the crowd and from close range struck him through his bronze-cheeked helmet. The plumed helmet, hit by the great spear and mighty hand behind it, was split apart by the spear-point, and the man’s blood and brains came gushing out along the spear-socket. Hippothous collapsed. He let the foot of great-hearted Patroclus drop from (300) his hand to the ground and fell there next to it, face forward on the body. He was a long way from fertile Larisa and could never repay his parents for their care; his life had been too short when Ajax’s spear cut him off.