3059

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap16"></a>BOOK XVI.</h2>

<p class="letter">
How Patroklos fought in the armour of Achilles, and drove the Trojans from the
ships, but was slain at last by Hector.
</p>

<p>
So they were warring round the well-timbered ship, but Patroklos drew near
Achilles, shepherd of the host, and he shed warm tears, even as a fountain of
dark water that down a steep cliff pours its cloudy stream. And noble
swift-footed Achilles when he beheld him was grieved for his sake, and accosted
him, and spake winged words, saying: &ldquo;Wherefore weepest thou, Patroklos,
like a fond little maid, that runs by her mother&rsquo;s side, and bids her
mother take her up, snatching at her gown, and hinders her in her going, and
tearfully looks at her, till the mother takes her up? like her, Patroklos, dost
thou let fall soft tears. Hast thou aught to tell to the Myrmidons, or to me
myself, or is it some tidings out of Phthia that thou alone hast beard? Or dost
thou lament for the sake of the Argives,—how they perish by the hollow ships
through their own transgression? Speak out, and hide it not within thy spirit,
that we may both know all.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
But with a heavy groan didst thou speak unto him, O knight Patroklos: &ldquo;O
Achilles, son of Peleus, far the bravest of the Achaians, be not wroth, seeing
that so great calamity has beset the Achaians. For verily all of them that
aforetime were the best are lying among the ships, smitten and wounded. Smitten
is the son of Tydeus, strong Diomedes, and wounded is Odysseus, spearman
renowned, and Agamemnon; and smitten is Eurypylos on the thigh with an arrow.
And about them the leeches skilled in medicines are busy, healing their wounds,
but thou art hard to reconcile, Achilles. Never then may such wrath take hold
of me as that thou nursest; thou brave to the hurting of others. What other men
later born shall have profit of thee, if thou dost not ward off base ruin from
the Argives? Pitiless that thou art, the knight Peleus was not then thy father,
nor Thetis thy mother, but the grey sea bare thee, and the sheer cliffs, so
untoward is thy spirit. But if in thy heart thou art shunning some oracle, and
thy lady mother hath told thee somewhat from Zeus, yet me do thou send forth
quickly, and make the rest of the host of the Myrmidons follow me, if yet any
light may arise from me to the Danaans. And give me thy harness to buckle about
my shoulders, if perchance the Trojans may take me for thee, and so abstain
from battle, and the warlike sons of the Achaians may take breath, wearied as
they be, for brief is the breathing in war. And lightly might we that are fresh
drive men wearied with the battle back to the citadel, away from the ships and
the huts.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So he spake and besought him, in his unwittingness, for truly it was to be his
own evil death and fate that he prayed for. Then to him in great heaviness
spake swift-footed Achilles: &ldquo;Ah me, Patroklos of the seed of Zeus, what
word hast thou spoken? Neither take I heed of any oracle that I wot of, nor yet
has my lady mother told me somewhat from Zeus, but this dread sorrow comes upon
my heart and spirit, from the hour that a man wishes to rob me who am his
equal, and to take away my prize, for that he excels me in power. A dread
sorrow to me is this, after all the toils that my heart hath endured. The
maiden that the sons of the Achaians chose out for me as my prize, and that I
won with my spear when I sacked a well-walled city, her has mighty Agamemnon
the son of Atreus taken back out of my hands, as though I were but some
sojourner dishonourable. But we will let bygones be bygones. No man may be
angry of heart for ever, yet verily I said that I would not cease from my
wrath, until that time when to mine own ships should come the war-cry and the
battle. But do thou on thy shoulders my famous harness, and lead the war-loving
Myrmidons to the fight, to ward off destruction from the ships, lest they even
burn the ships with blazing fire, and take away our desired return. But when
thou hast driven them from the ships, return, and even if the loud-thundering
lord of Hera grant thee to win glory, yet long not thou apart from me to fight
with the war-loving Trojans; thereby wilt thou minish mine honour. Neither do
thou, exulting in war and strife, and slaying the Trojans, lead on toward
Ilios, lest one of the eternal gods from Olympus come against thee; right
dearly doth Apollo the Far-darter love them. Nay, return back when thou halt
brought safety to the ships, and suffer the rest to fight along the plain. For
would, O father Zeus, and Athene, and Apollo, would that not one of all the
Trojans might escape death, nor one of the Argives, but that we twain might
avoid destruction, that alone we might undo the sacred coronal of Troy.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake they each to other, but Aias no longer abode the onset, for he was
overpowered by darts; the counsel of Zeus was subduing him, and the shafts of
the proud Trojans; and his bright helmet, being smitten, kept ringing terribly
about his temples: for always it was smitten upon the fair-wrought
cheek-pieces. Moreover his left shoulder was wearied, as steadfastly he held up
his glittering shield, nor yet could they make him give ground, as they pressed
on with their darts around him. And ever he was worn out with difficult breath,
and much sweat kept running from all his limbs, nor had he a moment to draw
breath, so on all sides was evil heaped on evil.
</p>

<p>
Tell me now, ye Muses that have mansions in Olympus, how first fire fell on the
ships of the Achaians. Hector drew near, and the ashen spear of Aias he smote
with his great sword, hard by the socket, behind the point, and shore it clean
away, and the son of Telamon brandished in his hand no more than a pointless
spear, and far from him the head of bronze fell ringing on the ground.
</p>

<p>
And Aias knew in his noble heart, and shuddered at the deeds of the gods, even
how Zeus that thundereth on high did utterly cut off from him avail in war, and
desired victory for the Trojans. Then Aias gave back out of the darts. But the
Trojans cast on the swift ship unwearying fire, and instantly the
inextinguishable flame streamed over her: so the fire begirt the stern, whereon
Achilles smote his thighs, and spake to Patroklos: &ldquo;Arise, Patroklos of
the seed of Zeus, commander of the horsemen, for truly I see by the ships the
rush of the consuming fire. Up then, lest they take the ships, and there be no
more retreat; do on thy harness speedily, and I will summon the host.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, while Patroklos was harnessing him in shining bronze. His goodly
greaves, fitted with silver clasps, he first girt round his legs, and next did
on around his breast the well-dight starry corslet of the swift-footed son of
Aiakos. And round his shoulders he cast a sword of bronze, with studs of
silver, and next took the great and mighty shield, and on his proud head set a
well-wrought helm with a horse-hair crest, and terribly nodded the crest from
above. Then seized he two strong lances that fitted his grasp, only he took not
the spear of the noble son of Aiakos, heavy, and huge, and stalwart, that none
other of the Achaians could wield. And Patroklos bade Automedon to yoke the
horses speedily, even Automedon whom most he honoured after Achilles, the
breaker of the ranks of men, and whom he held trustiest in battle to abide his
call. And for him Automedon led beneath the yoke the swift horses, Xanthos and
Balios, that fly as swift as the winds, the horses that the harpy Podarge bare
to the West Wind, as she grazed on the meadow by the stream of Okeanos. And in
the side-traces he put the goodly Pedasos, that Achilles carried away, when he
took the city of Eetion; and being but a mortal steed, he followed with the
immortal horses.
</p>

<p>
Meanwhile Achilles went and harnessed all the Myrmidons in the huts with
armour, and they gathered like ravening wolves with strength in their hearts
unspeakable. And among them all stood warlike Achilles urging on the horses and
the targeteers. And he aroused the heart and valour of each of them, and the
ranks were yet the closer serried when they heard the prince. And as when a man
builds the wall of a high house with close-set stones, to avoid the might of
the winds, even so close were arrayed the helmets and bossy shields, and shield
pressed on shield, helm on helm, and man on man, and the horse-hair crests on
the bright helmet-ridges touched each other when they nodded, so close they
stood by each other.
</p>

<p>
And straightway they poured forth like wasps that have their dwelling by the
wayside, and that boys are ever wont to vex, always tormenting them in their
nests beside the way in childish sport, and a common evil they make for many.
With heart and spirit like theirs the Myrmidons poured out now from the ships,
and a cry arose unquenchable, and Patroklos called on his comrades, shouting
aloud: &ldquo;Myrmidons, ye comrades of Achilles son of Peleus, be men, my
friends, and be mindful of your impetuous valour, that so we may win honour for
the son of Peleus, that is far the bravest of the Argives by the ships, and
whose close-fighting squires are the best. And let wide-ruling Agamemnon the
son of Atreus learn his own blindness of heart, in that he nothing honoured the
best of the Achaians.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So spake he, and aroused each mal&rsquo;s heart and courage, and all in a mass
they fell on the Trojans, and the ships around echoed wondrously to the cry of
the Achaians. But when the Trojans beheld the strong son of Menoitios, himself
and his squire, shining in their armour, the heart was stirred in all of them,
and the companies wavered, for they deemed that by the ships the swift-footed
son of Peleus had cast away his wrath, and chosen reconcilement: then each man
glanced round, to see where he might flee sheer destruction.
</p>

<p>
But Patroklos first with a shining spear cast straight into the press, where
most men were thronging, even by the stern of the ship of great-hearted
Protesilaos, and he smote Pyraichmes, who led his Paionian horsemen out of
Amydon, from the wide water of Axios; him he smote on the right shoulder, and
he fell on his back in the dust with a groan, and his comrades around him, the
Paionians, were afraid, for Patroklos sent fear among them all, when he slew
their leader that was ever the best in fight. Then he drove them out from the
ships, and quenched the burning fire. And the half-burnt ship was left there,
and the Trojans fled, with a marvellous din, and the Danaans poured in among
the hollow ships, and ceaseless was the shouting. And as when from the high
crest of a great hill Zeus, the gatherer of the lightning, hath stirred a dense
cloud, and forth shine all the peaks, and sharp promontories, and glades, and
from heaven the infinite air breaks open, even so the Danaans, having driven
the blazing fire from the ships, for a little while took breath, but there was
no pause in the battle. For not yet were the Trojans driven in utter rout by
the Achaians, dear to Ares, from the black ships, but they still stood up
against them, and only perforce gave ground from the ships. But even as robber
wolves fall on the lambs or kids, choosing them out of the herds, when they are
scattered on hills by the witlessness of the shepherd, and the wolves behold
it, and speedily harry the younglings that have no heart of courage,—even so
the Danaans fell on the Trojans, and they were mindful of ill-sounding flight,
and forgot their impetuous valour.
</p>

<p>
But that great Aias ever was fain to cast his spear at Hector of the helm of
bronze, but he, in his cunning of war, covered his broad shoulders with his
shield of bulls&rsquo; hide, and watched the hurtling of the arrows, and the
noise of spears. And verily well he knew the change in the mastery of war, but
even so he abode, and was striving to rescue his trusty comrades.
</p>

<p>
And as when from Olympus a cloud fares into heaven, from the sacred air, when
Zeus spreadeth forth the tempest, even so from the ships came the war-cry and
the rout, nor in order due did they cross the ditch again. But his swift-footed
horses bare Hector forth with his arms, and he left the host of Troy, whom the
delved trench restrained against their will. And in the trench did many swift
steeds that draw the car break the fore-part of the pole, and leave the
chariots of their masters.
</p>

<p>
But Patroklos followed after, crying fiercely to the Danaans, and full of evil
will against the Trojans, while they with cries and flight filled all the ways,
for they were scattered, and on high the storm of dust was scattered below the
clouds, and the whole-hooved horses strained back towards the city, away from
the ships and the huts.
</p>

<p>
But even where Patroklos saw the folk thickest in the rout, thither did he
guide his horses with a cry, and under his axle-trees men fell prone from their
chariots, and the cars were overturned with a din of shattering. But straight
over the ditch, in forward flight, leaped the swift horses. And the heart of
Patroklos urged him against Hector, for he was eager to smite him, but his
swift steeds bore Hector forth and away. And even as beneath a tempest the
whole black earth is oppressed, on an autumn day, when Zeus pours forth rain
most vehemently, and all the rivers run full, and many a scaur the torrents
tear away, and down to the dark sea they rush headlong from the hills, roaring
mightily, and minished are the works of men, even so mighty was the roar of the
Trojan horses as they ran.
</p>

<p>
Now Patroklos when he had cloven the nearest companies, drave them backward
again to the ships, nor suffered them to approach the city, 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: &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
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: &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then the ox-eyed lady Hera made answer to him: &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
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.
</p>

<p>
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:
&ldquo;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.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
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.
</p>

<p>
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: &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
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: &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
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 Sarpedol&rsquo;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: &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
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&rsquo; 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&rsquo; 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: &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
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: &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
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&rsquo;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: &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
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: &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
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&rsquo;
sake these two masters of the war-cry, Patroklos son of Menoitios, and renowned
Hector, were eager each to hew the other&rsquo;s flesh with the ruthless
bronze.
</p>

<p>
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.
</p>

<p>
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.
</p>

<p>
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:
&ldquo;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, &lsquo;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;&rsquo; so, surely, he spake to thee, and persuaded the wits of thee in
thy witlessness.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then faintly didst thou answer him, knightly Patroklos: &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
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.
</p>

<p>
Then renowned Hector spake to him even in his death: &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
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.
</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->