  Profoundly grieved at the sad fate of his comrades, Patroclus turned from the bloody spectacle and hurried to Achilles’ tent. Hot tears were rolling down his cheeks as he entered. Achilles, dismayed, forgot to rebuke him and inquired with concern: “Why dost thou weep, Patroclus? Speak, tell me all!” Sighing deeply, Patroclus replied: “Son of Peleus, thou mighty hero of the Achaians, do not be angry with me if I tell thee that the Achaians are suffering too great misery. All over the field and at the ships their bravest warriors have fallen, and but few of the princes remain unharmed. Diomedes has been shot through the foot and Agamemnon through the arm; Ulysses is wounded in the side and Eurypylus received an arrow in his thigh. The deserted soldiers are panic-stricken and thou, obstinate one, wilt not take pity on them. Cruel man! Thou art so brave and yet thou wilt not raise thy hand to save thy despairing friends. May a god never be angry with me as thou art angry. Surely Peleus is not thy father nor a goddess thy mother. The dark sea depths or adamantine rocks must have brought thee forth, so unfeeling is thy heart. Or is it that thou obeyest some secret command of the gods and darest not take part in the battle? Then, at least, send me and give me thy Myrmidons that I may perchance drive back the Trojans from the ships. Lend me thy armor that the Trojans, deceived, may retreat and the Achaian warriors take fresh courage.” “No behest of the gods restrains me,” replied Achilles, “nor is it my purpose to be angry forever. As soon as the Trojans approach my tents and ships, I shall gird on my sword and spear, and woe to him whom I shall meet! But until then, let Agamemnon bitterly repent his outrage and promise expiatory sacrifices to all the gods. But I shall not allow the Trojans the pleasure of destroying the ships. Therefore go, as thou desirest. Lead the Myrmidons into battle, for the danger is great. Diomedes no longer shakes his mighty spear and I do not hear the hated Agamemnon’s valiant battle cry; instead, Hector’s lionlike voice penetrates my tent, with the loud rejoicing of the Trojans. Take my resplendent armor, but listen well to what I say. Thou mayest drive the Trojans from the ships and back to the intrenchments, but pursue them no farther. Take care not to allow thyself to be enticed into an open battle, nor still less dare to storm Troy’s fortress without me, for mine must be the glory, that the Achaians may learn whom they have insulted.” With these words he climbed to the upper deck of his ship to reconnoitre. And how horrified he was to see Protesilaus’ ship in flames, Hector still advancing, and the Achaians giving way. “Hurry, hurry, Patroclus!” he cried and smote his thigh with impatience. “The ships are already burning! Put on the armor quickly, while I gather the Myrmidons.” There were more than two thousand of them, splendid warriors of great strength and stature. At their leader’s call they assembled under arms. Achilles divided them into five companies, to each of which he gave a leader of proven courage and experience. Meanwhile Patroclus bade Automedon bring forth Achilles’ chariot and horses, with a second one for emergencies. Then he put on the shining armor, placed on his head the great helmet with its crest of waving horsehair, and took two lances, but not that of Achilles, for no other living mortal could wield that. Thus armed he sprang into the chariot beside Automedon, who was waiting, whip in hand. Then Achilles went to the chest which his mother had given him, filled with cloths and warm garments, and took out of it a precious golden goblet from which he was accustomed to make sacrifice to the greatest of the gods alone. He dipped it in the sea, washed his hands, then filled the goblet with clear wine, and with it in his hands went to the door of his tent. “Father Jupiter, ruler of the world,” he prayed, while he poured the first drops on the ground in honor of the god, “hear me now as thou didst hear me when I was honored before the Achaians. Grant that my friend may return to me covered with glory, and fill his heart and the hearts of his companions with courage, that they may make an end of the Trojans at the ships, and that Hector may learn that Patroclus knows how to order the battle even if I am not with him.” The appearance of Patroclus and his followers was like sunshine after a shower to the Achaians. The Trojans were frightened, for they thought that Achilles had come forth again, and even without him the advent of two thousand fresh warriors was matter enough for concern. When Achilles’ band made a dash for Protesilaus’ burning ship, not a Trojan stood his ground. The space about the ship was cleared by the Myrmidons and they quenched the fire which had already destroyed half of the ship. But the battle was by no means at an end. The leaders of the Trojans rallied their forces inside the intrenchments and put them in order once more. Patroclus did his friend credit; he was indefatigable and himself slew many of the boldest warriors. The other Achaian leaders joined him and new life and hope filled every breast. The Trojans could no longer maintain their position inside the intrenchments. Hector was the first to reach the open plain with his chariot, but many another who tried to follow him was crushed in the throng. But the rout would not have been so general had Patroclus remembered Achilles’ instructions. But his success, the suddenness of the victory, and particularly his secret desire to kill Hector, misled the zealous man to pursue the fleeing enemy. He jumped from his chariot, which he instructed to have follow him, and hurried after his victims. Now he overthrew Pronous and took his armor; next he slew the charioteer Thestor and took his likewise. With a stone he crushed the head of Euryalus, who was about to attack him, and many others were struck down by his mighty arm. Not a Trojan was able to withstand Patroclus. The foolish man! Had he but remembered Achilles’ warning he might have escaped death; but Jupiter’s decree is mightier than man. A few hours earlier the Trojans had broken down the enemy’s wall and now the Achaians were seeking to conquer the lofty walls of Troy’s fortress, and Patroclus himself was ambitious of being the first to enter the city. But Hector plucked up courage and commanded his charioteer to drive straight at the leader. As soon as he saw him coming, Patroclus left the wall and ran furiously to meet him, holding his lance in his left hand and in the right a stone which he had hastily picked up. This he threw with all his might at the two tall men in the chariot, and behold, it struck the good Kebriones, Priam’s son, and crushed his skull, so that his body fell abruptly across the chariot seat. Patroclus cried out maliciously: “See how hasty the man is! There are splendid divers among the Trojans. If he could but have tried his luck in the water, instead of in the sand, he would have caught plenty of oysters to satisfy his hunger.” He sprang upon the wounded man to take his arms, but Hector jumped from his chariot and seized his brother’s head. Patroclus took his feet and the two men struggled for the body. A crowd of Trojans and Achaians came to their aid, and spears, shields, and naked swords rattled noisily against one another. The Trojans defended Hector as well as they could, but while he struggled for the body, none could get near him. However, a bold Trojan seized a favorable opportunity, and with a powerful blow of his sword, knocked off Patroclus’ helmet, cutting the strap of his shield at the same time, so that it fell to the earth. The hero started back and let go the corpse, but as he turned, Euphorbus stabbed him in the back. He tried to escape, but Hector laid him low with his heavy lance. The Achaians trembled, and even the most courageous of them lost their heads, and none dared interfere as Hector, bracing his foot against the body, drew out his spear, then stripped off the armor. It was now Hector’s turn to mock at the dying man and he cried: “Well, Patroclus, dost thou still expect to lay waste our city and carry off our women? One could see thou hadst great deeds in mind. No doubt Achilles bade thee not return without Hector’s bloody coat of mail. Now, poor man, thou liest here and givest me thy fine armor, but thee I give to the dogs and birds of prey for food.” Faintly the dying man answered him: “It is a foolish boast, Hector. Thou camest, when I was defenseless and wounded, to rob me. In open conflict I could have slain twenty like thee, but a boy could have done what thou hast done. But vengeance is approaching and when it comes, think of me. The godlike Achilles still lives.” “Spare me thy prophecies and die,” replied Hector. “Who knoweth but Achilles, like thee, may give up his soul at the point of my spear?” With these words he left the dying man and carried the splendid armor to a place of safety, then went back into the fray. |
|
